


Never Fade Away

by pantswarrior



Category: Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Angst, Coma, Drugs, Kink Meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-26
Updated: 2009-12-26
Packaged: 2017-10-05 06:53:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 43,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pantswarrior/pseuds/pantswarrior
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At a club one night, under much stress, Klavier makes a very poor decision, with unexpected consequences. Now he has to make a choice: silently cope with the guilt, or confess and risk losing everything, including Apollo - if he hasn't already lost him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Apollo seemed bound and determined to bring Klavier Gavin down in his extracurricular activities as well as the courtroom, it would seem. Here they were at the most exclusive club in LA, surrounded by attractive people and celebrities of various levels of fame and reputation, with the hottest DJs mixing the coolest beats, and what was Herr Forehead doing? He was sitting at a table in the corner by himself, frowning, scribbling in a notebook under the flashing colored lights.

Under most circumstances, Klavier would have been exasperated. But this was a night out, and he'd come prepared. Having tried to get Apollo to come clubbing with him before, prepared in multiple ways. Slipping out from among the lovely starlets-to-be he'd been chatting up, he excused himself and made his way through the crowd to sit down beside his walking buzzkill of a boyfriend. "Reading and writing in this lighting is bad for the eyes, schatzi."

"The same could be said for wearing mirrored shades indoors at night," Apollo pointed out, still scribbling away. "It already messes with your eyes. But I don't get on your case about your quirks, do I?"

"Actually," Klavier said with a smooth smile, sliding the sunglasses off with one hand and taking hold of Apollo's wrist with the other, "you do. Constantly."

"Someone has to," Apollo remarked, looking mildly irritated at the interruption, but hardly looking at him for a moment before returning to his writing. "Otherwise you seem to think they're _positive_ character traits."

But for that one moment, Klavier observed, he _did_ look into his eyes - 'messed up' or otherwise. Klavier wasted no time. "Dance with me?"

"Klavier-"

"I know, I know," Klavier sighed, pushing the sunglasses back up before anyone else could get a good look at him with them off. "You don't dance."

Apollo, who had never shown any indication that he recognized what Klavier was doing, averted his own eyes. "...I'd rather just watch you anyway," he muttered.

"And I'd rather you didn't." Klavier slid his chair closer, right next to Apollo's, and Apollo flinched in surprise as an arm clad in black leather fell across his shoulders. "When I dance, I feel the music, schatzi... almost as if it were a tangible, physical presence. I am enthralled, seduced by the rhythm..." he whispered, tracing his fingertip along the edge of Apollo's jaw, "and I would prefer to have _you_ there to be wrapped up in its seduction with me."

Even with the odd lighting and the sunglasses, Apollo's cheeks seemed to be growing a little pinker. "...Uh, can't we just put on the stereo in your nice, private, _soundproof_ office, then?"

Klavier slid closer, nearly onto Apollo's lap. Buzzkill or not, he was adorable when flustered. Which was most of the time. "Please?" he murmured in Apollo's ear. "I'll beg."

Apollo shook his head abruptly, ducking out from under Klavier's arm. "What's with you?" he asked, looking more confused than annoyed, despite the tone of his voice. "Every time you drag me out to one of these clubs, you get all weird on me."

Klavier laughed softly, nearly a giggle. "You mean to say you don't _like_ me draped all over you, showering you with affection..." He slid his chair closer again. "...wanting you, needing you-"

"It's like you become a different person," Apollo stated, inching away again. "And, well, obviously I like you just fine the way you normally are, or I wouldn't have agreed to come here in the first place."

Klavier grinned a slow grin. "Do you not like topping me?"

Apollo slid his chair back further, and hit the wall. "Look - just... just enjoy your music and dancing and everything, all right!?" he exclaimed. Klavier thought he sounded half frustrated, half scared. "I'm fine with just watching. And going home with you afterwards," he added in an undertone.

This time Klavier's laugh _was_ a giggle. "Have it your way, Forehead," he said, standing up. He'd had an idea a couple hours ago, and it seemed like a good time to put it into action if he wanted to really have some fun tonight. Apollo jumped as Klavier abruptly leaned back down on the table with his elbows, pinning Apollo's beloved notebook before he could pick it up again. "Can I at least entice you into partaking of the club culture by buying you a drink?"

Apollo shrugged, averting his eyes again. "Sure. Whatever."

'Whatever' indeed, Klavier thought. "What would you like?"

"A Coke would be fine."

Klavier made a quiet, exasperated noise. They were at a _club_, for crying out loud. "Jack and Coke it is," he repeated, turning to saunter towards the bar. He was good at sauntering at the moment, thanks to his tight jeans, and he knew it.

"Hey! Just the Coke, not the..." The sigh wasn't audible over the thumping bass, but Klavier could imagine it nonetheless. He'd heard it many a time.

There had been three pills in his pocket when they arrived, and the first two hadn't lasted much longer than it took for Klavier to hit the bar for his first drink. Klavier had never been much for the 'drugs' part of 'sex, drugs, and rock'n'roll', seeing as he was an executor of the law first and foremost, but since Kristoph had... well. Since Kristoph, and the pill wouldn't let him dwell too long on the details. These days, Klavier found it difficult to relax without help - and in a scene like this, it was to be expected. He wasn't going to take them in front of anyone, or mention it - that would be career suicide - but if someone happened to see anyone swallow a pill inside the club, no one batted an eye, and he was careful to take along only what he intended to use, in case there was an unexpected situation. Pity he hadn't brought an extra, but Klavier thought _this_ would be worth the shorter high.

The third came out now, and Klavier popped the two halves of the capsule apart, dumping the powder within into the glass in one smooth, subtle motion as he turned away from the bar. He looked up then, hearing someone shout his name; ah, he knew the fellows at the nearby table - their bands had toured together once, with the Gavinners headlining. Shame about what happened with Crescend. Klavier took a gulp of Apollo's drink and smiled. A shame indeed.

He spent a few minutes chatting with them, catching up and putting rumors to rest, before heading back for his boyfriend's table and offering the drink. "I tried a little," he admitted with an unapologetic grin as he set the glass down beside Apollo. "Tasty."

Apollo tried a sip, and grimaced as he confirmed that it was indeed not just a Coke. "If you were this irreverent in court, you'd never win a case."

"Apologies - but you need to lighten up and have some fun once in awhile."

"..." Apollo actually did look a little sheepish for a moment, and took a deeper drink. "...Okay, look," he began. "I know I'm not exactly the kind of lover people would expect you to have. There's nothing glamorous or flashy about me, I'm not graceful, I'm not musical..."

"I still would be interested in hearing you put those Chords of Steel to good use," Klavier said, straightfaced.

"...Anyway," Apollo continued, looking up at him, entirely serious. "I... This kind of place isn't where I belong. You look good here, you can fit in and look like you should be here. I can't."

It hurt, vaguely, somewhere, to hear Apollo talking about this. "I think you could. If you'd just relax."

Apollo stared down into his drink. "I'm not especially good at relaxing."

"Well..." This was unexpected, having what amounted to a serious conversation in a place like this, while high as a kite. Klavier couldn't quite figure out what he should be saying. "...All right," he said after a moment. "I'll go do my thing... you do yours... I'll be back in a little while, ja?"

Apollo nodded, and looked back up to him seriously. "...I'm sorry."

Klavier shook his head as he turned to go. "No need. Let's not discuss it tonight. Tomorrow, perhaps."

"Right."

They wouldn't be discussing it tonight, certainly, Klavier thought as he returned to his fangirls - he wanted to dance, with or without Apollo. But in about fifteen minutes - if he finished that drink - Klavier was going to get to see what it was like for Apollo to lighten up for a change. Now _that_, he thought, was going to be interesting.

* * *

The conversation had left Apollo rather moody, which just made him all the more irritable, and he gave up on his writing, resting his head in his hands as he nursed his drink and stared out at Klavier, talking and laughing and wrapping his arms around old friends and new acquaintances without self-consciousness. Despite the golden hair, in that outfit he was all dark and sleek and graceful, like some kind of great cat. Next to that, Apollo usually felt like a puppy that hadn't grown into his paws. Honestly, was it so surprising that it often made him feel like snapping at something?

Klavier was probably right. He needed to lighten up. First, though, he needed to _learn how_ to lighten up. The problem was, he'd lived so much of his life in uncertainty that the idea of 'lightening up' was frightening. It was letting his guard down, it was being unprepared. He couldn't let go of that fear - which was odd, because things had gone even worse for Klavier in the last year than they had for him. He might have lost his old job and wound up being mentored by a thoroughly unreliable and eccentric ex-attorney, but he'd also found his sister. He'd been taken in by that ex-attorney, and despite his frequent frustration with Mr. Wright's oddities, it felt... comfortable. Like he finally found a place to just be himself. And then, too, he had a lover who was, despite all his initial arguments to the contrary, possibly the coolest and most attractive man on the planet. (He hated admitting that, but he couldn't go on denying it while he was sleeping with the guy.)

Meanwhile, rather than gaining a sister, Klavier had lost his brother, the only family he had. And instead of losing one job and just picking it up elsewhere with a new mentor, Klavier's musical career had ended abruptly and tragically. And Klavier was shaking it off like nothing. Sure, he'd always said that the law came first for him, but how could he not be at least a little upset about not being a 'god of rock' anymore?

Maybe he was going at this backwards, Apollo thought, and he started to write it down, in case he forgot. Maybe being relaxed and 'unprepared' was a better way to deal with what life threw at you. It seemed to work for Klavier. Klavier, he thought as he looked up to see the guy shaking his hips in time to the music, was having a wonderful time.

Jealous, Apollo realized. He was jealous. He'd been jealous for awhile, but mostly of things like Klavier's looks, his screaming fans, his voice, his relaxed confidence. It seemed to go deeper than that at the moment.

Even so, Apollo couldn't manage to work himself up to what seemed like a proper level of frustration at what his life was like. Because the guy over there, moving like a large seductive cat on the dance floor, was his.

That was distracting him from writing anything further, and Apollo sat very still, just watching. He almost did want to get up and join Klavier, just this once, but then he wouldn't be able to watch him move. Even if Klavier was dancing with some girl Apollo didn't know, it was still amazing to watch.

Apollo began to realize after a while that Klavier wasn't exactly dancing in time to the music any longer. Or maybe it was just that he was so focused on Klavier that he couldn't really hear the music anymore himself. That was all right - he didn't care for this kind of music anyway. He was fine as long as he could see Klavier.

Or so he thought until, in a burst of euphoria, he started to stand up to go and join him - and the room lurched sideways.

* * *

After Klavier had thanked the pretty little fraulein for the dance, he supposed it was about time to check on his dear Forehead. True to his nickname, Apollo was somewhat slumped forward on his elbow at the table, resting his forehead against his palm. He looked a little drunk. ...It was cute. Klavier almost didn't want to disturb him, but he couldn't just stand there and stare at him forever, so he pulled the chair over again, sitting down on it backwards. "Forehead?"

"Uh. Klavier." He didn't look up.

Klavier leaned closer, puzzled. "Are you mad? Because of that girl? Believe me, schatzi, I would rather have danced with you." When Apollo said nothing, he added "There's still time, ja?"

"Not mad. ...I feel..." Apollo hesitated there for a rather long time. "...funny."

"Oh?" Klavier just _bet_ Apollo felt 'funny', and he grinned. "How so?"

"Kind of... sleepy. Dizzy." Apollo lifted his head from his hand for a moment, and stared down at his notebook. "...I don't remember how to read."

Klavier laughed lightly and closed it, taking Apollo's hand. "Then you can come dance with me," he suggested, tugging a little.

Apollo shook his head, and drew his hand back to resume his previous position. "I... I'd rather stay here."

Still shy, even with some help? Klavier shook his head in mock exasperation. His schatzi was far too uptight.

"Actually," Apollo continued in a mumble, before Klavier could say anything about it, "I'd really like to go home now."

He sounded kind of depressed, now that Klavier was thinking about it, and again he reached up to remove his sunglasses to have a better look, slightly concerned. "Is there something the matter?" He got no response, aside from slightly shallow breaths, for so long that he slipped the glasses into his pocket, leaning a little closer. "...Apollo?" He got a response this time, though an unexpected one - Apollo was abruptly, noisily sick on the table.

Klavier drew back a little in surprise, though the drugs in his system kept him from being too alarmed, and then he reached out to rub Apollo's shoulder as he coughed painfully. "...Home it is," he said simply, noticing but mostly ignoring the shocked looks that were aimed in their direction from the nearby tables. "I'll have the driver bring the car around."

Apollo moaned faintly, holding onto the edge of the table for support. "...I think something's really wrong..."

There were worrisome thoughts fluttering around in Klavier's mind as well, but the pills he'd taken kept them from touching down. Apollo couldn't be drunk - one drink wasn't enough to make anyone this drunk. "Did you drink anything else tonight besides the drink I bought you?"

Apollo shook his head vaguely. "Uh, some water I guess... Klavier... what's going on...?"

Those worrisome thoughts were fluttering all the harder, almost within reach. But maybe Apollo was just coming down with something, Klavier thought. "Hang on, schatzi," he told Apollo, rubbing his back lightly as he stood. "I'll be back in a moment, and I'll take you home."

Before he could, he thought it would be a good idea to stop over at the bar, get a cup of water for his poor sick boyfriend... and inform the girl working the counter that his dear friend had made a bit of a mess over in the corner, but they were leaving now. He also offered her a generous tip for whoever was going to have to clean up that table, and a charming smile, which made her smile despite the news he'd brought. Money and charisma had a way of smoothing over many potentially troublesome situations, Klavier had found.

Apollo was slumped back in his chair, eyes closed, breathing heavily, when Klavier returned. "Feeling any better?" Klavier asked him, pressing the paper cup into his hand. "Here..."

Well, he _tried_ to put the cup in Apollo's hand. Apollo's fingers fumbled with it, not quite managing to close around it. "Gonna pass out," he mumbled.

"You'll be fine," Klavier assured him, giving up on the water and setting it aside to slide his arm around Apollo's waist. "Come on - fresh air will help." At least he seemed to remember fresh air being a comfort, during the occasional drinking binges with Daryan.

Apollo shook his head restlessly again, gulping in deep breaths. "Klavier, I can't breathe..."

"I know, it's crowded in here, but it'll be better outside," Klavier told him, trying to get him on his feet. Apollo had made something of a mess of his clothes as well as the table, but Klavier wasn't concerned about that now. He'd just get his poor boyfriend outside, get his driver to bring the car, take Apollo back to his place and into the shower, then into some pajamas... or maybe they'd just sleep in the nude, which was preferable under normal circumstances, and possibly would save him a load of laundry later if Apollo continued feeling sick. "Just hold on to me."

"No really," Apollo moaned. "I can't _breathe_..."

He felt stiff, too - Klavier was having no luck getting him on his feet, and he abandoned the attempt, settling Apollo back on his chair and bending to get a better look at him. "Schatzi..." he murmured, seeing how dilated his pupils were, how pale his lips were. The worrisome thoughts were starting to bang their way in, past even the protection of the pills, but mostly he was just puzzled.

"Help," Apollo was whispering between gasps. "Klavier..."

This was impossible, Klavier thought. One pill couldn't do this. He'd taken more than he'd given Apollo - mixed with alcohol, just the same. He was fine. What was happening to Apollo? It made no sense...

"Klavier," Apollo gasped again, and his eyes rolled back in his head as he collapsed, almost sliding out of his chair but for Klavier catching him. It was instinct rather than concern that caused Klavier to carefully get him down on the ground, check his pulse - which was sluggish and uneven. Everything seemed not quite real, like he was just watching something that was happening to someone on television. This couldn't really be happening. Not in real life. It was impossible.

Klavier hadn't even noticed right away that he wasn't hearing those gasping breaths anymore since Apollo had fainted, but when he did, he realized something else - Apollo wasn't breathing at all. "Mein Gott," he whispered in a daze. "Apollo...?" There was no reply - Apollo merely lay very still.

The pulse under his fingertips slowed further, and Klavier looked around. He could tell that he still wasn't quite grasping the situation, and no one at the nearby tables was paying them further attention - they'd seen a young man drink too much before. No one was doing anything, the music kept playing - it was nothing like it would have been if it was on television...

"Achtung!!" His shout, piercing through the pounding bass to make everyone on that side of the club look his direction, might even have made Apollo's 'Chords of Steel' envious. "Someone call an ambulance!"


	2. Chapter 2

Things weren't as bad as they could possibly be, Phoenix thought, leading Trucy in through the emergency room entrance. This could have happened a month ago, the night before he was scheduled to take the bar exam, rather than the night after he'd gotten his results back. Other than that, though... this was about as bad as things could get.

He'd gotten the call from Prosecutor Gavin about half an hour before, telling him what had happened and where to go. He'd woken Trucy at once, and had her call for a taxi while he used his cell to call the couple who had adopted Apollo as a child. They lived some distance away now, but he wasn't surprised when they'd said they'd be there as soon as they could as well. He was debating the wisdom of making another call until something was resolved one way or the other; Thalassa was overseas, and it was unlikely she'd be able to easily come to visit, but she should at least be informed.

"Excuse me," he began when he found the reception desk, "we're looking for a patient by the name of Apollo Justice."

"Oh yes," the young woman said at once. "I remember that name. Very odd. He's been placed in the ICU - he's in serious condition - so I'm sorry, no one but family can visit him right now."

"But we _are_ family!" Trucy protested, her hair all in disarray. She hadn't even taken the time to get dressed - she was still in her pajamas. Phoenix hadn't actually changed either, but he tended to just wear his clothes to bed these days anyway.

"Oh? May I ask what relation?" inquired the receptionist.

"Apollo's my big brother!" Trucy informed her.

"And she's my daughter," Phoenix added.

The receptionist frowned at the paperwork. "It says here that his parents are two women... are you the biological father, then?"

"Er, no..." Phoenix scratched his head. "It's complicated. Apollo and Trucy only found out they were related a short time ago. Trucy is my adopted daughter," he explained, pulling out his wallet to produce his ID and Trucy's (he'd suspected this might happen), as well as a business card. "Apollo was also adopted as a child, by the two women named in his medical records, and currently is working _and_ living with Trucy and I, at the Wright and Co. Anything Agency. They should have found some business cards to that effect on his person when he was brought in - he carries them everywhere. I believe that answers the question of family."

The receptionist peered at the collection of cards Phoenix offered. "...I'll ask."

"Ugh!" Trucy stomped her foot impatiently as the receptionist left with their references. "Why won't they just let us in to see him!?"

"Under the circumstances, I understand," Phoenix explained, mussing her hair further. "They wouldn't want to leak information to the wrong people - particularly considering who brought him here. ...You know, you really should've put on your hat. Your hair's more frightening than even mine right now."

"_Daddy_..."

Rather than looking offended, she looked to be on the verge of tears, and Phoenix slipped an arm around her shoulders, hugging her gently. "It's okay... They'll let us in after this is cleared up. And if they don't? We'll sneak in while their backs are turned."

Trucy laughed weakly. "You can't do that, Daddy... You'd get in big trouble if they caught you."

"That's okay - I know a lot of good lawyers." Granted, one of the better ones was currently in serious condition in the ICU. Phoenix was not nearly so carefree as he sounded at the moment, since as far as he was concerned, Apollo was indeed family. Still, he knew it was even more terrifying for Trucy than it was for him.

To that end, he continued with the gentle teasing until the receptionist returned, with a woman who was presumably a doctor at her side. "Mr. Wright?" the receptionist began, handing back their information. "You're free to visit with the patient, as long as Trucy is there with you, seeing as you're her legal guardian and she is a minor. The doctor will show you the way."

Phoenix stifled a sigh of relief. He didn't know what he would have done if it hadn't worked. Though he would have been tempted to do just what he'd said and sneak in. "So how is he?" he asked, as they started off towards the ICU.

"He's improved, to a point," the doctor informed them. "When the ambulance was called, he wasn't breathing, and his pulse slowed almost to nothing a few minutes afterwards. He was kept alive by someone on the scene performing CPR until the ambulance arrived."

Phoenix glanced down at Trucy. She looked horrified. "But he's doing better?"

"His heart has mostly returned to a normal rhythm after treatment," said the doctor, "but he's not breathing on his own, and he hasn't regained consciousness. Various regions of his brain are showing abnormal amounts of activity - some more than normal, and some far less. Currently, I would say that he's fairly stable, but only because he's been placed on life support. To be honest... he's not in the clear yet."

Phoenix supposed he knew what the doctor was really saying, but he didn't want to use the word in front of Trucy. And he really, really hated having to ask his next question in front of Trucy. "...And this was caused by an overdose?"

"Not an overdose, precisely," the doctor clarified. "The young man who was with him told us that he suspected his friend may have taken a prescription medication, a depressant called Docidone. It's very popular at the clubs these days, it seems."

"Polly doesn't do drugs!" Trucy insisted, balling her hands into fists in frustration despite Phoenix resting a hand on her shoulder. "He doesn't even like going to clubs - he just goes because Klavier wants to go!"

"Actually," the doctor replied, "I would be very surprised if he had ever taken this drug before. From all indications, every test we've done, it appears that he ingested less than five milligrams - approximately the same as a doctor would prescribe as pain relief, and perhaps half what the average recreational user would take. He'd had a mixed drink as well, but that shouldn't have been enough to cause trouble. His condition isn't due to an overdose at all, but an unusual sensitivity to the drug family from which Docidone comes." The doctor looked down to Trucy. "In short, most bodies simply _react_ to this medication. His, unfortunately, _over_reacted."

Phoenix considered this. "...My daughter is right - it's unlike Apollo to even _consider_ using drugs. And from what you've said, I wonder if he intended to take this one at all." This might be an even more unpleasant situation than he'd thought.

"That was what his friend said, too..." The doctor stopped in front of a door that was propped slightly open. Phoenix could hear the hissing and clicking and beeping inside... at least it all sounded steady. "He'd never heard Apollo talk about using this medication, and he didn't see him take it, but he showed the symptoms of an overdose. Given the atmosphere in which it happened, I wouldn't be surprised if it turned out that someone slipped it into his drink."

Hearing the little gasp from Trucy, Phoenix squeezed her shoulder. "Considering who was there with him last night," he muttered, "I'm sure it will be investigated."

"...Speaking of that," the doctor added. "You seem to have a grasp on the legalities of visitation. Perhaps you could explain them to his friend, who put up a rather long and heated argument when we told him to come back during visiting hours, seeing as he is not family, and neither his celebrity status _nor_ his law enforcement position mean a thing if he has not been assigned to a case or otherwise granted special permission."

She nodded towards the open lounge, just a bit further down the hall. In one of the chairs sat Klavier Gavin, mirrored sunglasses firmly in place, but otherwise looking thoroughly bedraggled. His hair was a mess, his jacket was on crooked, and his posture just wasn't right as he half-sprawled, half-slumped down in his seat. Imagine if the tabloids got a picture of that, Phoenix thought to himself. "...He doesn't have a family anymore," he told the doctor. "Any family at all - all he has is Apollo. Let him in, even just while I'm present if that's the way it has to be - and I'll take responsibility."

"Er..." The doctor looked startled. "I'm afraid we can't do that, Mr. Wright. We might be able to make an exception at the request of his closest relatives, but as the, what was it, legal guardian of a minor related to the patient? Even letting _you_ in to see Apollo is questionable."

"His moms understand what's going on with Gavin, and they'll tell you the same thing when they get here," Phoenix said dismissively. "On my honor. Here-" He pulled out the business card he'd handed over before. "If there's any trouble over it, call me. I'm a lawyer."

The doctor clearly had no idea what to think of this idea. "...But you're the one who made the suggestion..."

"So our testimonies will match," Phoenix replied with a smile. "Trucy, do you want to go on in and visit Apollo while I talk to Gavin for a second? I'll be right there. Or would you rather wait for me?"

Trucy looked at the door, clutching the hem of her oversized t-shirt nervously. "...I'll go ahead, Daddy... I think..."

"Come along, dear," the doctor told her, her voice gentling as she turned to the girl. "And if you have any questions, you can ask me."

Despite his words, Phoenix lingered at the door for a moment as the doctor led Trucy into Apollo's room. "H-hey, big brother," he heard Trucy say shakily. "Daddy and I came to visit... and Mr. Gavin's here too. You're going to be fine." There was a pause. "...Do you... do you think he can hear me?"

"Probably not," came the doctor's soft reply. "He's very deep in sleep."

Another pause, and then Phoenix heard a sound he'd mostly heard from the opposite side of a door - Trucy's quiet sobs, which she tried to hide even from him. He leaned his head against the wall with a tired sigh, closing his eyes. Hadn't she cried enough for one life?

He only rested there for a moment, then steeled himself to walk over to the lounge area. Klavier lifted his head a little at Phoenix's approach. "...Herr Wright."

His voice, clothing, and posture made him look for all the world like a sullen, rebellious teenager. Phoenix suspected he knew better. "Isn't it a little hard to see through those shades in here?"

"Ach..." The disgusted sound was half-hearted, almost slurred. "Nothing here that I want to see that I'm _permitted_ to see."

"I talked to the doctor." Phoenix gestured for him to get up. "Come on. You're as much a part of Apollo's family as I am."

Klavier's chin raised a little further, as if he were surprised. After a moment, he lifted his hand to remove the sunglasses. Just as Phoenix had suspected - his eyes were reddened and still too bright. "...I'm sorry, Herr Wright. I shouldn't have taken him there."

"You couldn't have known," Phoenix told him. "And regardless, I think Apollo would want you to be here with him now."

Klavier covered his eyes. "...He asked me for help, just before he stopped breathing..."

The prosecutor looked so young at the moment that Phoenix had to stop himself from hugging him like he would have hugged Trucy. "Were you the one the doctor mentioned, the one who did CPR on him until the ambulance arrived?"

Klavier nodded vaguely. "That was me."

"Then you helped him, just like he asked," Phoenix pointed out.

For some reason, Klavier responded by laughing shakily. "Thank you... Herr Wright."

Phoenix glanced in the direction of Apollo's room. "...Trucy's with him right now. We could probably give her a little time." She wouldn't want them to see her crying, if she could help it. Phoenix sat down next to Klavier for the time being. "Why don't you tell me about what happened at the club?"

Klavier took a deep breath. "I told you what happened on the phone."

"More detail might be helpful. From what the doctor told us, it looks like someone drugged him without his knowing - and I intend to find out who."

Klavier shook his head vaguely, still covering his eyes. "It happens in places like that. There are drugs everywhere... it could have been anyone."

"Maybe we can narrow it down a little," Phoenix suggested. "Was he drinking at the bar?"

"...Nein. He wasn't interested in clubbing, so he was sitting at a corner table, writing in a notebook."

"What was he writing about?"

"I hardly think that's relevant," Klavier muttered. "He keeps a journal... I assumed that was what he was doing."

"Assumed?"

"Though he preferred to sit in the corner and write, I spent most of the night socializing. Part of the professional image, ja? He wouldn't join me."

Phoenix chuckled a little. "That's _his_ professional image, I think... Anyway. He was drinking while he was writing, correct?"

"Not much," Klavier stated. "As far as I know, he had only a single drink, just before he collapsed. Jack and Coke. ...He had some water earlier."

"Hmm..." Phoenix shook his head. "The Docidone couldn't have been slipped into the water, could it? He would have noticed."

"Yes," Klavier confirmed. "It dissolves easily and wouldn't be visible, but it has a bitter taste."

Phoenix had thought something was a bit funny about something the doctor had told them, and this reminded him. "...Isn't it a bit odd that as a prosecutor, you would spend time at a club where, in your own words, 'there are drugs everywhere'? And you know a lot about them..."

Klavier lowered his hand to give Phoenix a dirty look. "I've prosecuted cases involving drug possession, and I prefer to educate myself on the subjects of my cases. And have you forgotten? I'm also a musician - I socialize with musicians, many of whom socialize at clubs. They know of my primary profession, and we have an unspoken agreement. If they're using something they shouldn't, they don't let me know."

"Don't ask, don't tell, is it?" Phoenix scratched his head thoughtfully. Maybe it was a good thing that he wasn't much of a pianist - being a famous musician seemed complicated if one had morals. "...So unless Apollo intentionally took the Docidone, it had to have been in the Jack and Coke. Did he get it himself, or did someone buy it for him?"

Klavier averted his eyes. "...I bought it for him myself, Herr Wright."

Caught by surprise, Phoenix hesitated. "...I see. Was there, I don't know, a waitress who brought it to the table?"

Klavier shook his head. "I set it before him with my own hands." His eyes narrowed abruptly, and he glared at Phoenix again. The effect was somewhat lost, due to the redness and puffiness of the glare. "Surely you can't think I would intentionally hurt him. I would never want to harm mein schatzi..."

"I know, I know," Phoenix said quickly. "I'm just trying to pinpoint when everything happened, so that we know where to focus... Why don't you tell me about the events surrounding this drink? What was happening before, during, after...?"

Klavier stared down at the floor. "...Everything happened very fast."

"We'll try to slow it down, then," Phoenix reasoned. "Let's start with... why did you buy him a drink?"

"Ach..." Klavier rested his head in one hand tiredly. "He wouldn't dance with me. I was hoping he might relax enough to join me on the dance floor, just for a little while." This was such an absurd thought that Phoenix nearly laughed. The look on his face must have given it away. "...I may have had a drink too many already," Klavier admitted.

Phoenix felt slightly bad about wanting to laugh... but they probably needed a laugh right now anyways. "So you bought him a drink. Who made it?"

"The fraulein working the bar. I believe her name was Amanda. She has served me many times - she has no reason to want to hurt either myself or Apollo."

Unless she was jealous, Phoenix thought. Klavier couldn't be completely blind to the fact that the gossip columns had been full of stories about the former rock star's alleged courtship of a male lawyer in recent weeks. There was a certain portion of his fanbase that was irate. "And then you took it back to his table?"

"Yes," Klavier confirmed, then changed his mind. "No. On the way back, I spotted some people I knew at a table along the way, and stopped to talk for a moment." He closed his eyes, thinking. "They toured with the Gavinners, and wanted to ask about Crescend."

Phoenix winced slightly. "You get that a lot lately, huh?"

Klavier nodded. "I admit I had a sip of Apollo's drink. It was an uncomfortable conversation."

That one statement caused a theory to spark in Phoenix's mind. "Hold it - you had a sip of his drink? After buying it at the bar and coming over to their table?"

"Yes..."

"So it probably looked to most people like you were buying that drink for yourself." This would make a lot more sense than someone trying to drug Apollo, Phoenix realized. Apollo didn't have many enemies, and those he did have were largely locked up. It was unlikely that anyone in a club would want to drug him. Lots of people in that club knew Klavier, though, and their lives overlapped enough that someone might have a grudge. "Were the people at that table friends? Or only people you knew in a professional sense?"

"Their morals were a bit looser than mine - we didn't spend much time together on that tour, unless we were onstage." Klavier looked up, surprised. "...Ach. You can't mean..."

"That drug may have been aimed at you," Phoenix confirmed. "But let's not jump to conclusions just yet. You talked to the people at this table for awhile, and then what?"

"I brought the drink back to Apollo at his table," Klavier said. His eyes were still wide, startled. "He... didn't really want it," he admitted. "He seemed depressed... He told me to go do what I wanted to do, and he would stay there. So I left him alone," Klavier sighed, dropping his head into his hands. "I danced, I made conversation. And fifteen minutes later, I went back to see if the drink had put him in better spirits. He said he felt dizzy, and suddenly became ill... then collapsed."

"And that was when you called for an ambulance," Phoenix deduced. "Was he alone at the table all this time?"

"As far as I know. I looked back to him from time to time, but never saw anyone else there, when my view was unobstructed."

"So it's also possible the drug could have been placed in his drink during those fifteen minutes while you were away from the table," Phoenix stated. "There are really only three possibilities: the girl at the bar when it was made, your fellow musicians while you were talking to them, or... someone we don't know about, stopping by Apollo's table while you weren't looking."

Klavier said nothing, but continued to sit there, face buried in his hands. Eventually, Phoenix gave him a light tap on the shoulder. "Thanks for the information, Gavin. Now - Trucy and Apollo have had enough alone time, I think... You want to see him too, right?" Klavier lowered his hands enough to nod slightly. "Then come on."

It was definitely fortunate that this had happened in the middle of the night, Phoenix thought as he watched Klavier get to his feet, shuffling off in the direction of Apollo's room. There would be enough talk on the morning radio and news shows as it was without potentially embarrassing pictures.

Trucy had composed herself by the time the two men entered, and was sitting by the bed, holding Apollo's hand. She looked up. "Oh, hi, Daddy! And..." She unconsciously tried to smooth her hair back, which amused Phoenix - you'd think that the fact Klavier was dating her _brother_ might have cured her of that little crush. "...Hi, Mr. Gavin. Uhm..." She bit her lip, and Phoenix realized maybe it wasn't just the crush at all. "Uh, thanks... so much... for helping Polly tonight." Her voice grew tight. "I'm so glad you were there with him..."

"Yeah," Phoenix agreed, going to give her a little hug before she could lose her composure again. "If it wasn't for you, he wouldn't be here now."

Klavier made a little choked sound as he approached the bedside with the rest of them. It was no wonder, Phoenix thought, looking down at his protege. He looked more dead than alive, and that was probably true, given all the tubes inserted into his nose and mouth and arms. But the monitor said his heart rate was steady and only slightly slow, and there was another machine making his lungs pump air. Phoenix had the strange, almost irreverant thought that Apollo would be really upset if the intubation damaged his 'Chords of Steel'.

He rested a hand on Apollo's cheek, and sort of wished he hadn't. It felt cold and stiff. "Poor kid..." he murmured. "He's tough, though - he'll pull through. Right, Trucy?"

"Y-yeah," she stammered, and managed a small laugh. "He's really stubborn. He'll be back to waking us up in the early morning hours for the _usual_ reasons in no time. Ha... but you know how stubborn he is already, Mr. Gavin."

Klavier remained silent, staring down at Apollo. Phoenix had some idea how he felt, so he squeezed Trucy a little tighter. "Why don't we back off a little?" he murmured to her. "Men are strange - a lot of them have trouble letting their feelings show when other people can see it."

"Hmph... Not you, Daddy," Trucy teased him gently. "But... yeah, I'm okay now."

The room was large enough that he and Trucy could head off into a corner unoccupied by medical equipment, and Phoenix quietly related what he'd found out from Klavier, and his suspicions. Trucy was relieved to see that her daddy was already hard at work on the case, of course; Phoenix didn't remind her that it wouldn't make Apollo wake up any sooner. At least there was something he could do to help the two of them feel a little better.

Phoenix tried not to look over at Klavier and Apollo for awhile, so as to give them what privacy he could despite having to remain in the room, but he did happen to catch a glimpse of Klavier sitting in the chair Trucy had vacated. A little later, he glanced back that direction and saw that Klavier was slumped forward, resting his head on Apollo's stomach. ...It was a good thing Phoenix had told himself not to look, because it was a heartbreaking sight. That was it, he decided - after he called Thalassa, he had someone _else_ he really needed to call who was overseas as well at the moment.

The problem was, time continued to pass, and Klavier didn't make a move. It was late, Trucy had calmed enough that she was yawning, and... honestly, Phoenix was wondering if Klavier had fallen asleep, given how exhausted he'd looked in the lounge. He hadn't, it seemed, from how quickly he sat up when Phoenix finally touched his shoulder. "...It's late. We really have to get going."

Klavier nodded, but kept his face turned away until he'd put his sunglasses back on. "Herr Wright, fraulein... thank you for letting me have this time."

"It's okay," Trucy assured him. "Honestly, it's stupid of them not to let you in."

Secretly, Phoenix agreed. "Listen, Gavin - there's something I want to look into while I'm already here at the hospital. Would you be willing to accompany Trucy home tonight? It should save you from the fangirls that are probably already standing vigil around your own place... and, well, you'd have your choice of a couple empty beds," Phoenix finished, somewhat reluctantly.

"I... I would appreciate it," Klavier said quietly. Probably he was thinking along the same lines as Phoenix. "I'll take good care of her." And for a moment, he looked more like his usual self, unkempt hair and all, as he gave Trucy a wide smile, leaning forward a little to address her. "Well, fraulein... shall we go? I could sing you to sleep..." That got a little giggle out of her, and the sound of his daughter's laughter on a night like this was a sweeter sound to Phoenix than any of the Gavinners' music had ever been.

After he'd finished with a little bit of research in the hospital's reference library, having been denied access to the information he particularly was interested in, he left a note to Apollo's adopted parents before calling for his own cab. When he arrived back at the office, he found just what he'd expected - Trucy asleep in her bed, Klavier curled up and tangled in Apollo's sheets and blankets, clutching his pillow. He smiled a sad smile, and went to bed.


	3. Chapter 3

Klavier woke up the next morning - too early the next morning, as far as he was concerned - and was uncertain for a moment of where he was. Once he remembered where, and why, he lay there a little longer, inhaling the scent of the pillow he had found himself wrapped around. Smelled like Apollo.

...He didn't ever want to leave this bed.

He knew he must, however, and eventually managed to pull himself together, more or less. He could hear someone moving around elsewhere in the small office-apartment Phoenix and Trucy and Apollo rented, and the other bed in the room was empty. Rubbing his eyes, he got to his feet - this hungover feeling, he was certain, was more from stress and exhaustion than the actual alcohol the night before - and went to see who was around and what they were planning.

Trucy was the one making the noise, over in the kitchen (he recalled that the office had been much smaller, and lacked a kitchen, before his brother had stepped in and offered Herr Wright some financial assistance after his being disbarred), and she looked up cheerfully from the sink where she was washing dishes. "Good morning, Mr. Gavin! Did you sleep well?"

How could she even ask that, much less with a smile? Reminding himself that everyone had their own way of coping, Klavier yawned, leaning against the door. "Not at all."

"Ah... yeah..." Trucy nodded, sobering somewhat. "Me either... Daddy woke me when he left, and usually I can sleep through his fumbling around in the morning. And I couldn't get back to sleep... so I thought I'd clean up the kitchen a little until you woke up..." Abruptly, she was all smiles and cheer again. "Do you want some breakfast?"

"Nein, danke."

Trucy looked a little bewildered. "Uh, sorry... we don't have _any_ donkeys. Well, there might be some in the box of animal crackers... Daddy usually eats the lions first."

Klavier sighed. "No thank you."

She seemed disappointed. Klavier supposed she must be one of those people who liked to keep busy to keep her mind off things... but the thought of food was not only not appealing, but actually unappealing at the moment. "So your father has already left?" he inquired. "I'd thought he hadn't even come home yet."

"I guess he ran into a snag at the hospital," Trucy explained, turning back to the dishes. "So he came home and slept for a couple hours, then got up and went to talk to the police." Klavier's blood ran cold for a moment, but Trucy noticed nothing. "I guess he was relaying your information to the detectives, so they'd know where to focus."

Klavier put his hand to his head, which abruptly ached even more. "...Trucy... you know I hate to disappoint a sweet little fraulein like yourself, but it would be impossible for them to catch whoever did this. There were too many people at the club last night - and even if someone tracked down each and every one of them, they would have gotten rid of any evidence already."

"Maybe it is impossible," Trucy admitted, but then she smiled. "But Daddy did the impossible all the time back when he was a lawyer. And now he has a magician, too - the Wright and Co. Anything Agency kind of specializes in impossible things. And besides, Daddy agrees about the evidence. That's why he figures they'll focus on the witnesses. Like you said, there were _lots_ of people at the club last night, so someone _must_ have seen something."

Which was exactly what Klavier didn't want. It was bad enough with just he himself knowing what he'd done - if anyone else found out, his life would be as good as over. "Did he know if there had been any change in Apollo's condition?" he asked, changing the subject.

"He didn't know of any. But he said he was waiting for a phone call, and then he was going to go back over to the hospital... I don't know why, when he can't get in to see Polly without me there."

"I think I understand." It felt wrong for Klavier to be there, in a nice comfortable (if cramped and cluttered) home, while Apollo was stuck in that hospital bed. "...Fraulein Trucy... would you like to go visit him again?"

"Well, obviously!" She spun to face him, trailing a few drops of water from her fingertips. "You mean now?"

"I could call my driver to give us a ride."

"Your driver? Like in a limo?" Trucy exclaimed. "That would be so cool! Could we really?"

Klavier nodded. "Go on and get ready - I'll make the call." She followed his instructions so quickly that she left the sink full of soapy water... Klavier wondered, since he'd never had to do dishes himself, if that was bad for them.

The driver also brought some fresh clothes from the Gavin manor, which Klavier gratefully slipped on before they left the office, and the limo at least kept Trucy amused for the duration of the ride. Unfortunately, the driver also related that what Herr Wright had suggested the night before was true - there were crowds waiting outside the manor, thanks to the morning news reporting the incident (and Klavier's 'heroism' in keeping Apollo alive until the ambulance arrived, which made him feel even worse).

Sure enough, when they arrived at the hospital, there were crowds there as well. Before the limo had pulled up to the entrance, it was surrounded by screaming fans and photographers. Behind the safety of the tinted windows, Klavier made sure his mirrored sunglasses were in place. "...This may be a bit tricky," he warned Trucy.

"Oh, this? It's nothing," Trucy told him with a grin. "Stay here for just a second - I'll take care of it, and I'll catch up with you outside Polly's room." Before he could stop her, she was opening the car door, slipping outside.

The screams grew louder, more frenetic, and flashes went off all around as _two_ figures pushed through the crowd, which tried their best to follow. Klavier couldn't help but laugh as he stepped out of the car himself to only a handful of remaining fans - Apollo had told him all about Mr. Hat.

Just as Trucy had said, she caught up with him even before he'd actually reached Apollo's room, and they stopped by the information desk to make sure he was still there, and to see if Klavier would be allowed in. It was a pleasant surprise for Klavier to learn that Apollo's parents had come by earlier, and had apparently been quite insistent that both he and Herr Wright were to be considered family in regards to both information and visitation.

This moment of relief didn't last long, however; there was a commotion in Apollo's room when they arrived, doctors and nurses shouting instructions and telling them to keep out. Klavier could have sworn he heard Apollo's voice cry out, and would have pushed his way in regardless if not for Trucy clutching his hand, trembling. Apollo had just had a seizure, someone told them as the commotion began to calm down, and he'd needed to be resuscitated. Once he'd stabilized enough for the room to clear out, Trucy headed straight in, while Klavier headed to the bathroom. He needed some time to pull himself together and stop hyperventilating.

His reflection, with eyes hidden, looked cold and stoic in the mirror, which did not at all reflect what he actually felt. What he _really_ needed, he thought, was a couple more of those pills. He knew perfectly well he shouldn't be thinking about that after what had happened, and that what he really should do was flush the rest of the bottle once he got back home, but he had a feeling he'd never sleep again if he did. He wanted even just one so badly now that he could scream.

Once he was breathing evenly again, he exited the bathroom and almost walked straight into Wright and Detective Skye, which startled him all over again. Yes, he definitely needed something to calm his nerves. Speaking of, he observed after greeting the two of them... "No Snackoos today?"

Detective Skye shook her head, looking slightly uncomfortable rather than annoyed. "Don't get me wrong, I still say scientific investigation is the most prudent kind," she muttered, "but analyzing stomach contents is not my favorite part of the work."

"...Oh." Klavier could understand that.

"We just came from the club," explained Wright. "There's still a team back there looking for clues. ...By the way," he added, "Ema and I agreed that this had no potential relevance to the case - nothing in it that might provide a clue. Maybe you'd like to hold onto it?"

He was holding out the notebook Apollo had been writing in. Klavier just stared at it blankly.

Wright shrugged slightly. "We cleaned it up a little... took out a couple of empty pages in the back that uh, got caught in the crossfire. If you don't want to hang onto it, I'll just take it back to the office until Apollo comes home."

Klavier wondered when he'd started trusting Herr Wright enough to believe he'd truly only removed blank pages; a missing page would have been his undoing in his first case, after all, if it really had come from the journal. He'd believed for seven years that Wright had ripped it out himself to hide the real evidence and create false evidence...

"...Danke schön," he said finally, reaching out to accept it. He wondered how much Wright knew about Apollo's condition. "I'll keep it safe... until he can write in it again."

"So how is he?" Ema asked. "Any change?"

"...Not for the better," Klavier admitted.

He caught them up on what had happened since their arrival, and the two of them related that they were following up on some leads - Klavier was a little unnerved that there were any leads at all - and then they went in to join Trucy at Apollo's bedside, since they'd all been given the status of family except Ema, who was working on the case. His color wasn't so bad as the day before, at least, but being flushed and sweating wasn't what Klavier would have called an improvement, either.

Ema didn't stay too long, just long enough to give them some encouragement, and reassurance that she'd find the culprit - and that Klavier was welcome to join in the investigation as soon as he was up to working on it. She didn't even call him any bizarre names, just "Gavin", which actually left him feeling a bit dejected. Wright said he was going to go look into what he'd been intending to look into last night, which left Klavier and Trucy, and eventually Wright came back and told Trucy they should probably go get some lunch. Klavier was welcome to join them, but...

He chose to stay. If anything further happened, like the seizure earlier, he wanted to be there. Or maybe he didn't. He just didn't know what he wanted now, except for Apollo to wake up. And even if he did, he didn't know what he would say. Even Apollo didn't know that this was his fault.

It might help, Klavier thought, to read a little from Apollo's notebook. He couldn't hear his voice now, as much as he wanted to, but seeing words written in his handwriting might be at least a little bit similar.

Apollo's handwriting was completely different from his own, he observed, flipping through pages about his cases and his dual frustration and fascination with Herr Wright's quirks. Apollo's letters were small, but wide and straight, printed in a hurried manner that was not exactly a scrawl and not exactly neat, easily readable. Klavier spotted his own name on one page, and stopped to see what Apollo had been writing about.

__

That was when I realized I really could trust Prosecutor Gavin, even though we were at odds. I figured it out during Machi's trial, actually, when he showed no hesitation about cross-examining Crescend's testimony - but it never hit home until I saw him questioning his own brother, and refusing to let Kristoph drag him away from the subject at hand. Kristoph had been manipulating me, manipulating Mr. Wright, manipulating Drew and Vera Misham, and probably countless others over the years. We'll probably never even know how many fell under his spell.

Klavier wouldn't fall into his trap, though. It would have been so simple for him to submit to their shared blood, the years they'd spent with no one but each other, and to cover for him. But he didn't. Klavier championed the truth even against his own brother, which means there's probably not a situation in the world that would cause him to perpetuate a lie.

After being shuttled from foster home to foster home as a kid, I stopped believing I could trust anyone. Roc and Xenia helped, but I still have dreams that they'll tell me it's time to move on. For some reason, though, I feel like I could learn to trust again with Klavier Gavin. Pretty-boy though he may be.

I hope that's not why I think I could trust him.

Behind the sunglasses, Klavier's eyes closed. When they opened again, he stood - he couldn't take any more of this, he needed to go home.

When he got back to his apartment - not the manor, his driver said it was still mobbed, but his own apartment in town wasn't so bad - Klavier made his way through the smaller crowd, unsmiling, and headed straight for the bathroom medicine cabinet, where he swallowed one pill. Then another. Then another. He was very tempted to swallow the whole bottle, but he knew he didn't deserve anything so merciful as oblivion.

Oblivion caught up with him nonetheless as he curled up under his covers and let the Docidone do its work. He wondered absently, as he drifted off, if Herr Wright would have let him borrow the pillow - it was softer and more made for cuddling than the notebook.


	4. Chapter 4

Klavier tried to go back to work the next day. Thanks to the news reports and resulting rumors, everyone who saw him was asking how he was, was he holding up, was there any news about Apollo. He went home on his lunch break, took a couple more pills, called the head prosecutor's office to request the next week off, and headed to the hospital.

That was mostly how the next few days went, aside from not trying again to go back to work. Sometimes there were others visiting - Apollo's parents, or Wright and Trucy... the occasional foolish fan of his who had managed to make the nurses think they were a friend of Apollo's. After the third time Klavier had to drag a squealing girl out into the lounge (not a difficult task when they latched onto him so tightly) to have her removed, they started a list at the desk of _approved_ visitors.

It was remarkable, the nurses whispered, that Klavier handled these incidents with such grace. He was obviously under so much strain, yet he never lost patience with even his most insistent fans - he was gentle as he brought them out of the room, and gave them a smile and an autograph before returning to Apollo's side. This was, of course, due to the pills he'd been popping before every visit, but they couldn't possibly know that, especially since he kept his sunglasses in place at all times to hide his eyes.

Meanwhile, nothing much changed. Apollo was beginning to respond somewhat to mildly painful stimuli - a fluttering of the eyelids, a twitch in his hand - but wasn't waking properly. He seemed to be capable of breathing on his own, one doctor commented, but letting him try briefly proved that he couldn't keep a proper pace for long. The doctors assured everyone that Apollo _was_ progressing, if slowly - but it was still unlikely Apollo could truly hear them. Klavier talked to him anyway, telling him about the ridiculous things the gossip columns said. The theories that were being posted on the internet, due to the lack of public information. ...How some of them weren't far from the truth, but hardly anyone believed those theories, and they mostly attracted flames.

One evening, he returned home to find an email waiting for him. From Lamiroir, of all people... Her English seemed to be much better in print than it had been in person (or perhaps it had simply improved), and he stared at the monitor for quite some time when he realized what the files attached to the message were. He stayed up late into the night going over them - and then, to his surprise, slept easily and soundly without the need for any drugs at all for the first time since the incident.

The next afternoon, he headed for the hospital with a large box he had acquired from a local florist. The fans who still were crowded around trying to get a glimpse of him were intrigued, and the flash bulbs still popped, but Klavier knew the stories they would tell would be far less interesting than they would be if he had carried everything in the usual way.

"Guten tag, mein schatzi," he greeted Apollo quietly as he entered the room, setting the box down by his usual chair. "I brought something for you today. It's not entirely from me," he admitted, opening it. "It seems Herr Wright contacted Lamiroir about your, ah, condition." Despite the calm Lamiroir's message had brought him the night before, he'd taken another couple of Docidone before leaving - it would have been impossible to deal with the fans and paparazzi otherwise. "She sent me something for you... I suppose because she knew I'd appreciate it more than Herr Wright - and possibly because he wouldn't know how to get it to you," Klavier chuckled. "I'm not sure how good he is with computers."

The first thing he pulled out of the box was a small portable CD player. "I know you preferred Lamiroir's style of music over the Gavinners', during that incident," Klavier commented. "Unless you were just trying to 'play it cool', I suppose. Anyhow... you know that she had her surgery, and kept to her word, ja? She hasn't spent much time in the studio lately, especially since her pianist has been, ah, a little tied up by the legal system... and instead she's learning to paint. But she had a work in progress, less involved than writing a whole new album - she was recording a collection of traditional songs from around the world, in different languages." An unlabelled, newly-burned disc was slipped from Klavier's jacket pocket. "She and Machi had only finished the piano and vocal arrangements before circumstances made it difficult to continue. ...She sent them to me as digital files, to bring to you."

Klavier slipped the CD into the player, setting it on the foot of Apollo's bed and finding a spare plug. "In particular," he said, almost idly - so casually that it would have been clear if anyone was listening that it wasn't casual at all. "She pointed out one track she felt a special connection to, a lullaby she had picked up somewhere. It's funny," Klavier remarked thoughtfully, "but she said that even though it was in English, she had no trouble learning the words. And I too... As soon as I began listening to the track last night, I believed she was singing from the heart. She's... very good at that, but on this track especially so."

It wasn't so odd, talking to Apollo and getting no grumpy response, when he was talking about Lamiroir. Apollo had obviously respected the woman and her art. It made Klavier feel a little better as he pushed the chair back slightly from the hospital bed and sat down again, pulling out the last item in the large box, and the reason it had needed to be so large - one of his acoustic guitars. "...Perhaps it was presumptuous of me," he admitted, strumming a straight E and adjusting the B string in turn, "but I felt compelled to learn the song myself, and..." He strummed an F, then a D minor, and adjusted the high E just a bit. "...Then Lamiroir and I could sing it to you as a duet." Actually, she had suggested Klavier might like to join her on a track or two, though she had probably meant on guitar. He'd ask later what she had in mind. "So just... lie back and relax, I suppose." Not that Apollo could do much else at the moment, and Klavier reached over to press the play button.

The track started with a soft, dark chord on Machi's piano, which dwindled slowly into silence, and then Lamiroir's voice began to sing a capella.

_"Little child, my little child,  
I watch you as you sleep -  
Your pillow soft, your blankets warm  
Your breathing slow and deep..."_

As the piano resumed, remaining simple and understated in the distance, Klavier added his voice, in a line of harmony he had been up far too late tweaking, and a sparkling trail of notes of the highest strings of the guitar.

_"Little child, my little child,  
I wonder as you dream -  
Are you playing in the forest?  
Are you splashing through the stream?"_

As Lamiroir's voice rose, so did Klavier's, and he began strumming the chords as Machi's accompaniment soared to a crescendo.

_"While the night covers me with darkness,  
What do your eyes see?  
Are you alone within your dream,  
Or do you dream of me?  
For dreams are a world of wishes,  
And wishes may come true;  
For in my sleep, my little child,  
I often dreamt of you..."_

Lamiroir's voice softened again, and Klavier's with it, his head lowered over the neck of the guitar as he returned to picking out the harmony, one note at a time.

_"Little child, my little child  
So soon the sun will rise  
And I'll be here to greet you  
When you open up your eyes..."_

Klavier let his guitar and his voice fall silent, as Lamiroir hummed the chorus softly to Machi's gentle accompaniment. "...My fans would be surprised to hear me sing a song like this - ja, Forehead?" he murmured. "Then again, I don't know if they'd be surprised by anything I could do anymore. Well... they'd be surprised if they knew what caused this," he amended. "But they don't. You should see the headlines - 'Gavin Gracious, Even In Crisis'. Things like that. Because I haven't snapped at them to leave me alone, I suppose..."

The next song on the CD began playing, and Klavier reached over to press the pause button. "...Even if it's not quite my style... like it says, schatzi, wake up soon. I... Even with help, it's getting to the point where I can't handle this much longer," he admitted, picking out a tune absently on the guitar. "I know I'm taking too many pills, and I shouldn't be taking them at all. I... I'll toss them all out, if you'll wake up. I'll even write a song about it - how I quit just for you - if you'll just wake up," he said, and suddenly stopped playing to lift his sunglasses, brush his hand over his eyes. "...Ach, who am I kidding... I'll write a song for you if you..." He stopped there; he'd been about to say if he _didn't_ wake up, but then he thought about where he'd be playing such a song. "...Don't get me wrong - a funeral's not what I'd call a gig. ...Won't be an issue," he sighed. "You'll outlive me - you take better care of yourself. And I might have more fans, but I have more enemies, too. Stars like me tend to go down in flames."

The thought was a good enough reminder of who he was _supposed_ to be that he could muster up a charming smile. It didn't matter that it was a little uneven, when no one was there - really there - to see it, and immediately it faltered. "...I'll be back," Klavier said shakily, setting his guitar aside and standing up, pressing the play button on the CD player. "Enjoy the music. I just... I'll be back," he repeated, heading for the door. He didn't know how long he was going to be able to stand this - the stress of seeing Apollo still and silent, and knowing he'd caused it. Not to mention the fact that no one else knew. He needed some cold water on his face... maybe another pill, if only he'd brought them... something like that.

* * *

Phoenix was just about to enter Apollo's room himself, with Trucy lagging a little ways behind. Having heard the faint sound of music inside, he was pretty sure Klavier was visiting too at the moment. Just the person he wanted to see. But as he was reaching for the door, it abruptly swung open, and Klavier walked out. Right into him, nearly bowling him over.

Klavier ducked his head as Phoenix reached out to catch himself on the wall. "Ah... excuse me," he mumbled, quickly sliding his sunglasses back on. "I was..."

...Crying his eyes out, probably. "No, no, it's okay," Phoenix told him hurriedly, but Klavier tried to duck around him. "Wait a sec - _wait_, Gavin," he said firmly, and just caught hold of Klavier's wrist. _That_ made the kid stop short, looking at him with raised eyebrows above the mirrored shades. "I've brought good news," Phoenix told him. "...Well, kind of good. Go on ahead," he urged Trucy, "I need to fill him in."

Klavier's expression was essentially unreadable thanks to the glasses, but his cheeks looked flushed. More evidence that he could use some good news. "Good news, Herr Wright?"

The best news he could deliver without being a doctor. "They got the guy who did this to Apollo."

Klavier stopped short and stared. He seemed to be at a loss for words. "Was...?"

"I had a hunch," Phoenix said with a nod and a satisfied little smile. For a moment, he felt just like the man he'd been all those years ago, when he'd first met Klavier across the courtroom. "That night at the club, you stopped and talked to the members of Screaming Mercy, right?" Klavier nodded slowly. "But their bassist wasn't talking to you, was he?"

Klavier tilted his head, seemingly thinking for a moment. "...No, Cliff spoke to me. He was the one who brought up Daryan and his incarceration."

"Didn't say anything else though, did he?"

"...I don't recall."

"Everyone else at the table did," Phoenix told him. "Ema and I did a little footwork to figure out which bands you'd toured with - Trucy helped, since she had a bunch of fan websites bookmarked - and checked it against who was seen at the club that night. Only one was a match, so we went to talk to them about that night."

"...You did?" Klavier's voice, at least, sounded startled. "And... you found evidence?"

"Not hard evidence, but we've spoken to Daryan in prison," Phoenix explained. "He said that he'd partied with the band a couple times while you were off doing prosecutor things - he'd become pretty good friends with Cliff Bell. Who, the other band members stated, was the first one to notice you at the club that night. And let's just say he wasn't happy to see the guy who stabbed a mutual friend in the back."

"Ah..." Klavier looked somewhat let down. "That's not what I'd call conclusive, though, Herr Wright. I wasn't happy to be talking about Crescend either."

"How about this, then?" Phoenix added. "The drummer remembered him noticing aloud that you'd already found a new boyfriend, like you'd already forgotten." Klavier flinched slightly, and Phoenix supposed he knew why - he hadn't really gotten the impression that Klavier and Daryan were more than friends, and that was probably how they wanted it. "They were talking about it, and the drummer quoted him as saying - and I'm sorry, Gavin - but he said something along the lines of 'He's such a whore. I bet I could get him to sleep with me tonight instead.' Their singer laughed and called him an idiot, the drummer said he'd have to get you _really_ drunk, and then he added, and I quote, 'I bet just one of _these_ would be enough.'" Phoenix watched Klavier's teeth grind as the implication sunk in. "So you can guess what the police found when they paid his apartment a visit..."

"Uh... ah..." Klavier looked stricken. "This... Are you serious?" he asked finally.

"Of course," said Phoenix. "Why would I make this up? It's certainly not the best story I could put together if I wanted to cheer you up," he pointed out.

"I... I don't know." Klavier glanced around anxiously, as if he was searching for something. A response, probably. "...The others... agreed to testify against him?"

"They thought he was joking. Now that it's become clear that he wasn't, they'd prefer to make it equally clear that they had no part in it. They didn't even think it could have been connected, until Ema explained that the drink you carried was drugged."

"But..." Klavier's breathing was too quick. "None of them _saw_ him put the drugs in the drink, then? It's only hearsay - they can't be certain."

This was getting odd, almost like Klavier _wanted_ to let the guy get away. No - probably just thought it was too convenient to be true. "Come on, Gavin," Phoenix told him, giving him his most encouraging smile. "You and I both know cases have been successfully prosecuted with less than this, as long as there's a skilled prosecutor at the helm. And speaking of," he added. There was another reason he'd wanted to talk to Klavier. "I called your boss after Ema called me - he says you're on vacation for the week. I'd hate to cut your vacation short... but he agreed this case is yours by rights if you're up to it. We both thought you'd like to put this one away with your own hands."

"Ah... I..."

Phoenix had never seen Klavier so flustered. Maybe it was just too much for him, he thought - Klavier had been through an awful lot in the past couple of years. "Hey - it's all right if you don't," Phoenix assured him. "If you'd rather sit this one out, I know a few other particularly gifted prosecutors I can call up."

Klavier put his hand to his head, as if it ached. "...No," he said at last. "I'll do it. I'll prosecute."

He looked a little shaky, and Phoenix was unconvinced. "Are you sure? Whether you're there or not, I _promise_ Bell won't be getting away with it."

"Ja - but one condition," Klavier stated. "I'll prosecute him, if you defend him."

This time it was Phoenix's turn to be stunned. "What?!"

"Apollo told me that night - you got your results back from your bar exam. You're a lawyer again, ja?"

"Well, yes..." Phoenix confirmed, "but why would I want to defend someone who did this to Apollo?"

"...After our trial ended in disaster, I thought you were pathetic, egotistical," Klavier admitted. "The kind of lawyer who would make things up just to win a case, at the expense of letting a murderer go free. Kristoph told me differently, that he couldn't believe you'd done it on purpose. He cited a case from a few years previous - a Matt Engarde, I believe..." Even after all this time, the sound of that name set Phoenix on edge. "He said that you weren't in it to win, but to find the truth. Now that I know our first match was tainted with heavy interference..."

Phoenix wasn't sure whether to be relieved or unnerved at the sudden self-assurance in Klavier's bright smile. "...I want to face you again in a fair match," Klavier stated. "And as for the defendant, _everyone_ deserves a fair trial. I can trust that you would do your job, without personal feelings getting in the way." He averted his face slightly, though the smile remained mostly intact. "I have enough personal feelings about this case for both of us, ja? And I'm prosecuting."

"...I imagine so." Phoenix scratched his head and sighed. "I suppose it would be interesting... not that this trial needs to be any more interesting than it already is. But... a fair trial, yes." He looked at Klavier, thoughtful. "It seems I underestimated you, Gavin."

"I'm used to it," Klavier said simply. "When is the trial set to start?"

"Let's see... Bell was arrested this morning, and Ema thinks they've got all they need. Barring any sudden revelations, I imagine they'll begin at ten tomorrow morning."

"I'll be there," Klavier agreed. "Which means I should call in. ...Danke, Herr Wright, for agreeing to this."

"No problem," Phoenix replied with a shrug. "My original career started off with a bang too. Not so much as yours, perhaps, but even so... It seems appropriate that something like this should bring me back to the courtroom." He was going to have to start reviewing too, he realized.

Once Klavier had gone to call his office, Phoenix turned to join Trucy in Apollo's room, only to find that she hadn't gone all the way in ahead of him after all - she was watching from the doorway, peeking out and looking anxious. "Trucy? Is something wrong?"

"I... dunno," Trucy admitted. "It's Mr. Gavin. He's... He's hiding something. It's like when I help you play cards, and someone's bluffing, but worse. Way, way worse."

Phoenix had kind of wondered if Klavier knew more than he was letting on, and he was starting to get a bad feeling about this. "...Just now, you mean?"

"Well, it's been there all along, ever since Apollo got hurt," she told him. "But I thought it was just because he was upset."

"And that changed?"

"All of a sudden it... I don't know, it _spiked_ when you told him they arrested Mr. Bell."

"Spiked?"

"Yeah." She brightened. "Even more than your hair used to be."

"Very funny."

"But then it happened again," Trucy continued, more seriously. "When he agreed to prosecute, and asked you to defend. He was definitely bluffing."

"How could he be bluffing?" Phoenix asked, puzzled. "We're not playing anything."

"Yeah... that's why I'm so worried all of a sudden."

Phoenix knew well that Trucy and Apollo would be right about this sort of thing, so he couldn't help but be worried too all of a sudden. "...Hmm. Trucy. You know that bracelet Apollo wears? Would you like to give it a try?"

"Huh, wait, seriously?" Trucy looked startled - no wonder, since although Phoenix had told them about them being related, he hadn't mentioned why the bracelet was significant. "But it's Apollo's..."

"Yes, but it's not doing him much good right now," Phoenix reasoned. "I think it'll do him more good if it's with _you_, in fact. As long as you're willing to join me in the courtroom tomorrow - would you be okay with that?"

Trucy looked even more worried. "Sure, Daddy, I'd be glad to. ...What do you think's going on?"

"...I don't know." Phoenix glanced down the hall, where Klavier had vanished. He was getting the feeling he didn't want to know, either.

* * *

Klavier actually called his driver before calling his boss - he knew what was going to be expected of him if he was taking the case, and that he would not be getting back to Apollo's room anytime soon.

He got down to business at the office at once, filing the necessary paperwork and then heading to the police headquarters to speak with the other band members, who had been brought in for questioning and preparation for the witness stand. They all related the same thing - and apologized profusely, saying they hadn't imagined Cliff would really go through with it. Klavier just shook his head and told them not to worry. After all, only the person who drugged the drink was responsible for drugging the drink.

None of them had seen Cliff do anything to his drink, of course. That was going to be what Wright would have to cling to in his defense - because aside from that one detail, Klavier had this case wrapped up quite neatly. Statement of intent corroborated by multiple witnesses, an opening to drug the drink, the drug in question found in his home, and the timing certainly was right.

Except, of course, that it had never happened. Klavier didn't bother talking to Cliff at the detention center; he knew what Cliff would say, and he knew that the less personally insulting parts of it would be true. He wouldn't have been able to look the man in the eye.

His sunglasses remained in place throughout the afternoon and evening, though the high from the pills he'd taken before leaving for the hospital had more than worn off by the time he headed home. In fact, his fingers were shaking as he opened the door to his apartment, in no small part due to the cheering of his fans who still remained in attendance. The news that he was prosecuting hadn't broken before the evening papers went to press, but given that there had been an article regarding the arrest, and then he'd been seen at his office, when he hadn't gone there for days... Even a casual fangirl could have put two and two together.

Despite the tension and shakiness, Klavier refused to take any more of those pills in his medicine cabinet. He would _not_ enter the courthouse with anything less than complete sobriety, especially not in a situation like this. What had he been thinking?

After some time lying awake and grinding his teeth, Klavier tried putting on Lamiroir's files again. Still he was too tense to sleep. Finally he gave up and got dressed, and once again headed for the hospital and Apollo's bedside. Despite his misgivings about having the drug physically on him, he brought along the bottle of Docidone in his jacket pocket - he had a feeling he was reaching the breaking point, and might snap if he was confronted by something unexpected. This didn't seem like a good omen for the next day's trial.

The first thing he was confronted with when he reached Apollo's room _was_ something unexpected - but fortunately, something unexpected and positive. Just after entering, he paused only a moment to stand very still, watch for the rise and fall of Apollo's sheets, and then walked back to ask the nurse on duty at the station what had changed. Apollo's vital signs were stronger, the nurse said, and that afternoon they'd tried again to let him breathe under his own power. It had worked well enough that the doctors had removed the respirator, though his breathing was still being monitored, just in case. Klavier did, come to think of it, recall seeing a missed call on his cell phone after he'd finished talking to Screaming Mercy's lead vocalist; he'd still been a bit too drugged to realize he might want to call back, instead of waiting for whoever it was to call back if it was important.

Regardless, it was good news, and he smiled weakly as he returned to Apollo's room, and again watched the rise and fall of his chest. "...So you're getting better, are you?" he murmured, pulling the usual chair over to Apollo's bed. "I'm glad... Perhaps you'll be bellowing your objections again soon," he chuckled faintly.

...Apollo looked more like he was just sleeping, now that the most prominent tube was no longer in place, and Klavier reached up to stroke his hair. "Speaking of," he informed Apollo, "I'm going to be in court tomorrow. I wish it could be you on the other side of the courtroom. Circumstances make that a bit difficult, of course, since the defendant is accused of drugging you. Heh... That makes me wish all the more that it was you on the other side of the courtroom, since I know he's innocent."

Klavier stroked Apollo's cheek with the back of his fingertips. It felt warmer... or maybe he'd just grown accustomed to the odd feel of Apollo's skin while he lay comatose. "I didn't want to do this," he admitted. "I don't want to prosecute an innocent man. Even if he did say some terrible things about the two of us..." He'd gotten more detail, if reluctantly, from the other band members. "But that's why I have to do it. Another prosecutor would prosecute this case with the assumption he's guilty, and it wouldn't be hard to make the judge see it that way. Which is why I recruited your mentor, Herr Wright. Well, he and Trucy might have told you about that already... his first case in nearly a decade. I hope he's as good now as his reputation long ago made him out to be...

"On the other hand." Klavier chuckled again. "Even if Cliff is declared innocent on that charge, he's going to get nailed to the wall over the possession of a controlled substance, and the media frenzy over this case means that the details will leak out. The general public probably won't be content with 'insufficient evidence', and he'll be assumed guilty in their eyes anyway. Suits me fine - he's always been an asshole. Just as long as he doesn't get jail time for it."

No response, of course. Klavier just looked up at Apollo's face, wondering. "...Would you approve of this, schatzi? I honestly don't know. As long as the man isn't convicted of something he didn't do, I _think_ it's all right... If you wake up, and you want me to confess, I'll confess. I'll do my time. But I can't be caught now, or I won't be able to be here with you. ...I couldn't live with that. Especially since Wright and Trucy would hate me - I'd probably never know if anything changed."

Unless Apollo died, and his charges changed to murder. Klavier didn't want to say it aloud. It occurred to him that if he was already jailed, it wouldn't make much difference to him in that case - his career would be over, his life would be over, and all that would be left to him was the wait for death. He'd seen Kristoph in prison, yes, and how comfortable he'd managed to make his cell... but Klavier had never been the sort to be content with a quiet, solitary life. Death would be preferable. ...And, if he was jailed, impossible aside from old age or the death penalty.

...Maybe it was a good thing he'd brought those pills, in case the trial tomorrow didn't go as expected.

The CD player he'd left earlier was still at the end of the bed, and he plugged it back in, starting the disc with Lamiroir's tracks again and putting it on repeat before he slumped forward, resting his head on Apollo's sheets. One hand reached up to clasp Apollo's, and although it wasn't the most comfortable position in the world, it felt better than curling up in his bed had. He wasn't even grinding his teeth any more.

Something seemed different about Apollo's hand, though - something cool and smooth that was missing.


	5. Chapter 5

Seeing as they were going to be at the courthouse all day, Phoenix woke up early the next day so that he and Trucy could go visit Apollo for a little while, and see if there was any further progress with his recovery. Actually, it was Trucy who woke Phoenix, and he was still a little groggy even after they'd gotten off the bus at the hospital.

Other than being groggy, Phoenix felt pretty good. Apollo seemed to be doing better, Trucy was in high spirits, and he was going to the courthouse as a defense attorney for the first time in years. His old blue suit still fit, to his surprise - it might actually fit a little better now than it used to, since it had been on the large side before - and since the hat he'd been wearing looked ridiculous with it, he'd even spiked his hair again after shaving. His hair wasn't quite as long as it used to be, so the spikes were a little more subtle. Trucy said he looked very respectable, and he hoped she was right.

As they neared Apollo's room, Phoenix could hear music drifting through the crack in the door. "I guess Klavier must have stopped by," he observed. "Sounds like Lamiroir's music again." Trucy looked thoughtful at his observation, and he put a hand on her shoulder, remembering her reaction yesterday, when they'd entered to hear this particular disc playing. "Have you figured it out yet?"

Trucy shook her head. "Only sort of... It's just that one song, really. It made me think of being really little... when Mommy was still around. I think she sang it to me."

It wasn't Phoenix's secret to tell. "The album _is_ a bunch of folk songs," he pointed out. "Maybe your Mommy knew that one."

"I don't know..." Her voice was slowed, her eyes focused on him. Phoenix glanced down to her hands, and found her running a finger over the bracelet on her wrist. "It seems like there's something more than that..."

...Maybe it was a bad idea to talk about that when she was wearing Apollo's bracelet, Phoenix decided, and decided to change the subject. At least it seemed to be working as well for her as it had for Apollo. "Anyway, let's go say good morning to your big brother, okay?" She nodded, and followed him into the room.

Both of them stopped short, though, when they saw Klavier still there, unconscious with his head resting on Apollo's sheets, his hand clasping Apollo's wrist. Trucy was the first one to speak, after a long pause. "...If I had a camera right now," she whispered, beginning to smile, "I would be _so famous_ in Gavinners fandom."

The smile spread across Phoenix's face too, in spite of his vague concern. "He must have come here after work and just passed out," he supposed, and stepped forward, reaching for Klavier's shoulder. "I'm sure this has been exhausting for him. He wouldn't want to be late for the trial, though."

"Hmmwha..." Klavier mumbled sleepily at Phoenix's touch, and turned his head to blink up at him. After a couple more glances around, he seemed to remember where he was. "...Herr Wright. I assume from your presence that I'm not late for the trial?"

"No, we've got plenty of time to get to the courthouse," Phoenix assured him. "Trucy and I just came to visit for a little while before going over there ourselves. But, well... if you needed to go home and get changed or anything, you should probably do it fast."

Klavier shook his head as he started to sit up straight, wincing and rubbing the back of his neck. "That's all right, I changed before coming here. And I keep a comb in my pocket at all times..."

Phoenix chuckled. "Next time I get caught unprepared, I'll know who to go to, then."

"Heh..." Klavier actually smiled a little in return - not the bright camera-ready smile he was known for, but a tiny uncertain one. It seemed more honest than any he'd shown them in recent days. "On the subject of preparation - are you ready to defend?"

Phoenix nodded. "I know the details I'll need to be pressing. Oh, and that reminds me," he added. "Something the prosecution should know, in case it comes up - Apollo couldn't have purposely ingested the Docidone himself. I checked in the hospital's database, and they said he had a bad reaction to a medication from the same drug family when he was younger. He'd been cautioned to use only certain pain relievers, and there were notes all over his records telling doctors what not to use or prescribe - so he knew very well what would happen if he took Docidone. Seeing as he exhibited no signs of suicidal behavior..."

"Ah..." Klavier nodded, looking down at Apollo as he stood. "...I see. Thank you for the tip. Though I can't imagine it will be necessary."

"Me either, but it's best to have all your options laid out beforehand," Phoenix agreed, glancing over at Trucy. She was fiddling with the bracelet again. "Say, Gavin - should we all just head over to the courthouse together when you're ready? It's not a long walk."

"We might have to face my fans again," Klavier pointed out. "Along with the reporters and gossip columnists... Ach - I'm beginning to wish I wasn't so universally adored. Say, Fraulein Trucy," he said, turning to her with a smile. "Might we make use of your trick again?"

He was actually sounding somewhat like his normal self again, Phoenix thought with relief. Trucy, on the other hand, was not - she was biting her lip oddly as she looked at Klavier. Phoenix nudged her to snap her out of it. "You mean Mr. Hat?" he asked Klavier. "She told me about that the other day."

"Oh! Oh, right," Trucy said quickly. "Mr. Hat, right. Sure. Say... in that case, can I borrow your sunglasses?" she suggested. "They fall for it better if we've got something that's obviously yours."

Klavier hesitated for a second, then nodded. "Ja... if it would help," he agreed, removing them and handing them over with a little chuckle. "Though I'm not sure they'll completely camouflage the fact that my head is made of wood."

"You'd be surprised how far a little detail goes! People see what they expect to see, you know..."

Phoenix watched the two of them, smiling a little to himself. For the moment, both of them were acting so ordinary... and Apollo was breathing on his own, and he himself was heading back to the courtroom. Today promised to be a good day, even if he was fairly sure he'd be losing his case. For the sake of a fair trial, though, he'd give his client what he could.

"Bell was a little reluctant to let me take his case," he reported to Klavier a little later, when they left the hospital. "For obvious reasons. I had to point out that I knew how heavily the court relies on evidence, and that I knew there wasn't any, before he believed I was actually intending to defend him."

Klavier laughed a little. It was surprising that he could be so cheerful about the prospect of Bell's defense being fairly solid, but whatever made him smile these days... Phoenix glanced over to Trucy, who was walking slightly ahead of them, and saw that she wasn't fiddling with the bracelet anymore, or even looking back at them. Hmm.

"So he'll pay you well?" Klavier inquired. "The man has plenty of money, and throws it at less useful things - certainly he could pay your rent for a few months."

"Well, he'd pay me well if I won the case for him," Phoenix pointed out. "But as we both know, that's not likely to happen."

"Oh?" Klavier glanced over to Phoenix, who was almost surprised to be able to see his eyes - Klavier had hidden them behind those sunglasses constantly since that night at the club. Weird, because he didn't look too bad, only a little tired. "Despite the lack of evidence? Usually that's enough to convince the judge, if you're good."

"It is," Phoenix agreed. "I know that firsthand. But on the other hand, there's the jurors' opinions now too, and those count just as much. And honestly - looking at this case, what do you think they'll see?"

Klavier stopped short. Phoenix looked back at him, though not before noticing that Trucy had stopped and glanced back too. ...He was right about this, wasn't he? "...Something wrong, Gavin?"

"Ah... not at all." Klavier brushed his hair out of his eyes and started walking again. "I'd forgotten about the jurist system - it's so new. I've had a lot on my mind."

That was true, but it wasn't all by far. Phoenix could tell by the way Trucy was looking at him, even if it wasn't blatantly obvious to him without any tricks. Before he could say anything, though, Klavier addressed Trucy. "Well, fraulein, we seem to be nearing the courthouse - I can see the adoring throngs from here. Would you do me the pleasure of using your magic to clear the way?"

Trucy nodded, but with a glance at Phoenix first. She was uncertain. Phoenix gave her a nod in return - he was hardly of the opinion that Klavier would do anything terrible while she was gone. "Okay... See you in the defendant's lobby, Daddy?"

"Of course."

"And I'll, uh, see you later too, Mr. Gavin." Her farewell was without the usual spark, or even the smile. "Good luck..."

Klavier thanked her, and then she was running off towards the crowd, Mr. Hat in hand, _purple_ cape flapping behind him, his painted eyes covered with Klavier's sunglasses and... where had she gotten that blonde wig, Phoenix wondered? Ah well - his little girl had always been resourceful. And without her around, he was free to speak bluntly to Klavier as they waited for the crowd to disappear. "Gavin," he said flatly. "You're acting as if you don't want to prosecute this case."

"Herr Wright...?" Phoenix had left the magatama at home, but he could almost feel the chains slinking through the air, wrapping themselves around Klavier as he spoke. "Why would I want that?"

"That's what I'm wondering too. Do you know something I don't?"

Klavier shrugged, and started walking towards the courthouse steps. "Doubtful. You've spent more time investigating this case than I have," he pointed out. "If anything, you're better equipped for this trial."

"Yes," Phoenix agreed, keeping pace with him, "and it looks to me as if that's okay with you. Why now, why this case? I know you usually take every precaution, and it's very strange that you'd choose now to concede."

"In the interest of a fair trial," Klavier stated, "perhaps one of us should not go into this assuming the defendant's guilt. Usually that would be the defense."

Phoenix frowned. "Look, I'm going to do my job. ...I'm just wondering," he admitted, "if you're really intending to do yours."

Klavier glanced away, up towards the scales of justice engraved over the courthouse entrance. "We'll reach the correct verdict," he said, matter-of-fact. "I'm certain about this."

Why, Phoenix wondered as they entered and went their separate ways, did it seem like Klavier already knew what that verdict was, and that he was the only one who did?

Trucy appeared in the third defendant's lobby shortly after he did, to his surprise. "Hey, you didn't get here ahead of me - you're slipping."

"I had to give Mr. Gavin his sunglasses back," Trucy explained, a thoughtful look on her face. "You know, I didn't expect he'd actually let me borrow them."

"Why's that?" Phoenix hadn't noticed anything particularly special about them. "Are they some kind of expensive designer frames or something?"

"No, it's just that I noticed before - he keeps messing with them," she told him. "Straightening them, pushing them up his nose, stuff like that. And it occurred to me I've hardly seen him without them since that night. I think he's hiding his eyes on purpose."

"I noticed that too," Phoenix agreed. "Probably he doesn't want to let on how upset he is."

"That's the weird thing, though... Usually it's when he feels upset that he's _not_ messing with his glasses. He messes with them a lot more when he's calm." She puzzled over this for a moment. "Doesn't that seem backwards to you?"

"...Yeah. It definitely does."

Phoenix was still thinking about this a little while later, when they entered the courtroom. ...This drove it from his mind for the moment - there were too many memories here for him to worry about Klavier and his sunglasses. At least until the younger man entered from the other side; Phoenix couldn't help but notice the way he was messing with his sunglasses, now that Trucy had pointed it out.

Sure enough, Trucy nudged him. "See what I mean? He doesn't seem upset now, but he keeps straightening them, pushing them up..."

Phoenix nodded. This was why he'd brought Trucy. "...Can you do me a favor, sweetie? Instead of focusing on the witnesses or the defendant like you and Apollo usually do, I'd like you to keep an eye on Gavin."

"Okay... Will you be all right without my help, though?"

"Sure - I used to handle trials on my own without any supernatural assistance, after all." Well, aside from his dead mentor's spirit popping up in assorted bodies. It was admittedly a little strange thinking about a trial without at least one Fey in attendance.

Shortly thereafter, the judge entered, everyone stood, and Phoenix left Trucy to do her work while he did his own.

* * *

"Yeah, it was just like Hunter said a second ago."

"Would you be kind enough to put it in your own words, Mr. Sweet?"

Normally, Screaming Mercy's lead singer was calm and composed - unless he was wailing mournful lyrics onstage. At the moment, on the witness stand, he looked uncomfortable, almost like a cornered animal. "Uh, sure. Sorry, Klav."

"That's fine." Everything was fine, as far as Klavier was concerned - even the unnatural familiarity with which Josef Sweet, never a close friend by any means, was addressing him. He fondled the bottle of pills in his pocket - he could never have done this without them. "Go ahead."

"Well, yeah... before he called you over to the table, Cliff was talkin' smack about you. You know... said he could probably get you in bed. I laughed at him, and Hunter said something about there not being enough booze in the world to get you drunk enough to agree to that. So he held up a little bottle - uh, Cliff, not Hunter - and said one of these pills would probably be enough. I just laughed at him again, because he was being stupid, then he decided to call you over. Which I guess is when he slipped it in..."

"Hold it!" came a voice from across the room. "You 'guess'? Just to get this absolutely straight," Wright began, "you're saying that you did not actually _see_ my client put anything in the drink in Mr. Gavin's hand?"

Josef looked at Klavier, uncertain. "Uh. I didn't, no. But looking back-"

"Let's stick to testifying about what you actually saw," Wright suggested, "and not assumptions."

"Then again," Klavier pointed out, "they say hindsight is 20/20. Perhaps his assumptions, now that he has seen the end result, are more accurate than his perceptions were at that moment."

"We are not now currently discussing opinions and deductions," Wright stated, slamming his hands down on the bench. He kind of looked cool when he did that, Klavier thought with a little smirk. Phoenix Wright, the guy who'd spent the last several years wearing an unstylish hoodie and a hobo hat. "We are discussing the _facts_ of that night's events. And on that night, did you ever have any reason to think that Mr. Bell was in any way connected to Mr. Justice's collapse at the next table over?"

"No, of course not!" Josef exclaimed. "I know he trash-talks a lot, sure, but he's never followed through on any of it before! Not like this, anyway..."

"Like what, then?" Klavier broke in.

Josef suddenly looked far more nervous. "...Okay, so one time he spiked _my_ drink. But as a joke. He knew I could take it, and I wouldn't really be mad at him or anything. And it wasn't like he tried to pull anything on me while I was wasted... not that I know of, anyway..."

"So he has a history, you could say, of spiking drinks?"

"...Not a _history_, exactly," Josef admitted, deflating somewhat. "But he's done it."

"Do you have any more evidence of that," Wright inquired, "than you have of him spiking the drink on this occasion?"

"Wh...? No, that was last year, how could I have evidence of that?"

"The defense is grasping at straws, Your Honor," Klavier told the judge. "Or perhaps, given the subject, not so much at straws... but possibly those brightly-colored little paper umbrellas!" he added with a grin, pointing meaningfully at Wright, who was now looking at him like he was insane. Klavier was having a marvelous time.

"Ooh, I like those," the judge said, brightening. "They make everything so festive... Er, anyhow," he added, clearing his throat and sobering, "I agree - the defense needs to stop worrying about things that may or may not have happened a year ago, and return to the incident at hand."

"Your Honor, I believe this is relevant to the current case," Wright insisted.

"...All right - since it's your first day back in the courtroom, I'll humor you. Say what you must."

At that, Wright didn't seem to know what to say - clearly he'd not actually been expecting to win that argument. "...Mr. Sweet. Why are you so sure that Mr. Bell spiked your drink a year ago?"

"Because he told me," Josef chuckled. "The next day, I woke up all groggy, and he was laughing his ass off."

The judge peered at the defense bench. "Do you believe this helps your case, Mr. Wright?"

"Uh... now that you mention it..."

Klavier smirked from across the room. Poor Herr Wright. It was lucky for Wright that he was fairly certain that Bell was guilty, or he'd be looking worse about how his first trial was going so far.

...Klavier remembered abruptly that he was not actually trying to get a guilty verdict himself this time. Oops. The pills he'd taken before entering the courtroom had calmed him down considerably from the nervous breakdown he had felt coming on. So much so, in fact, that he kept forgetting to go easy on Wright's arguments, to just let him make his points... After working as a prosecutor for this long, he found himself refuting the defense's points without thinking.

"Any further questions, Herr Wright?" he inquired.

"Just one," Wright replied. "Mr. Sweet - you said that at the club, my client held up a bottle of pills, suggesting that he was considering putting one in the drink Klavier held. Are you certain about what was in that bottle? Do you know for a fact that it was Docidone, the medicine found in the victim's drink?"

Josef shook his head. "All I saw was a little pill bottle. It had some kind of capsule in it, from the shapes I saw when he shook it. I don't know anything more than that."

"Then it might not have been Docidone at all." Wright nodded in satisfaction. "No further questions."

Klavier could have refuted that, but reminded himself that he was supposed to let it go. After all, he was trying _not_ to make his case. It went against all his instincts, but instincts were kind of slowed by the high anyhow. "I have nothing further to add either," he observed. "I believe the witness may now be dismissed."

"May I call one more?" Wright asked. "Your Honor, if I might call the defendant, Cliff Bell, to the stand?"

The judge glanced to Klavier, who stood with his arms crossed. Klavier shrugged casually. "You may," the judge agreed.

Cliff was a long, lanky sort of guy, scruffy dark hair. It wasn't any real surprise he'd gotten along with Daryan, Klavier thought - they sort of acted alike, and appearance-wise could almost have been brothers. Possibly they bought from the same designers... "State your name and occupation, if you would?" Klavier told him.

"Full name's Cliff Tre' Bell. I play bass."

"Yes you do," Klavier murmured. "You most certainly do."

Cliff looked at him funny. Oh hell - Klavier wasn't even sure what he was going on about himself, and he stifled a giggle. "Anyway... are you ready to rock your testimony?"

The funny look Cliff was giving Klavier changed to a nervous one. "Okay," he began, "I'll admit it. I'll say it under oath. I said what they've been saying I said that night, about yo... about Gavin," he clarified, addressing the judge and gallery instead of Klavier directly. "I called him a slut, and I bragged about how easy it would be to get him to sleep with me. Or anyone." He rubbed at his sweating forehead with his palm. "It was a nasty thing to say, I know. And I shouldn't have been flashing those pills around. But I didn't know anything was going to happen to that Justice kid that night!"

"Mr. Bell," Wright broke in. "Is this because you expected something to happen to Mr. Gavin instead?"

"No, not at all," Cliff insisted. "I never put anything in anyone's drink. Not even mine. Sure, I spiked Josef's drink last year, but he'd done that stuff before, I knew it wouldn't hurt him, and he'd just laugh it off the next day. That's just what he did. I swear - I wouldn't mess with someone like that cause I was mad at them."

He looked serious, Klavier observed. ...Right, because he was. Klavier shook his head a little to clear it. "I don't suppose you have any way of offering an alibi...?"

"Fuck, Gavin!" Cliff's teeth were bared - he was scared to death. "You were there - you saw me at the table the whole time. How can you ask me that? You would've seen me if I went somewhere else - would've thought you'd be able to tell if I put something in your drink or not, too."

"On the subject of the pills you had with you," the judge put in. "There was some question on this point - were they or were they not the Docidone?"

"They were," Cliff sighed. "Look, you can lock me up for possession, sure. But they weren't for anyone but myself, I swear. Hell, ask Hunter - he knows I don't like to share."

Klavier looked across the courtroom to Wright. The older man appeared to be thinking hard. ...Klavier waited.

"Mr. Wright," the judge finally said. "Do you have any questions for the defendant?"

After a moment, Wright shook his head. "...I guess I don't," he admitted.

Klavier stared at him in disbelief. How could he stop now? Wright was supposed to be able to work miracles when his client was innocent...

"Well then," the judge decided. "I think this trial has gone as far as it can - admittedly further than I would have expected it to go without any solid evidence. Why don't we take a short recess, and then we'll let the prosecution and defense make their final statements before our jurors decide on the fate of Mr. Bell?"

The judge's tone was dark. It was beginning to dawn on Klavier all of a sudden just what he'd done. He'd let this go forward like an ordinary trial - he'd done his job too well. He was going to defeat Wright, and an innocent man was going to go to jail. In his place.

His hand, shoved in his pocket, clenched tightly around his own bottle of pills. The three he'd taken earlier were not enough to hold off this onslaught. Even high as he was, Klavier knew he couldn't let this happen.

"If there are no objections..." The judge's gavel sounded. "The court will reconvene in ten minutes."

Ten minutes. Klavier had ten minutes to figure out what to do. He probably couldn't count on Wright to give a closing statement so brilliant that it would change the minds of the jurors... No one was that brilliant.

"Gavin. ...Hey, Gavin."

Wright's voice startled him out of his thoughts - he'd been staring at the courthouse ceiling. Now he looked down at Wright, standing before the prosecution bench, looking rather suspicious. He adjusted his glasses, just in case. "What's going on, Gavin?" Wright asked. "You're not taking this seriously - it's obvious. And more than that, what's-"

"We're on recess, Herr Wright," Klavier reminded him, and nudged his sunglasses up again as he turned away, starting for the prosecutor's lobby.

"Hold it, Gavin!" Wright's voice was firm. "You've been fiddling around with something in your pocket all through this trial, and I want to know-"

...Had he really? Klavier found that his hand was still clenched around the small bottle, and he supposed that he had. "It's irrelevant," he interrupted.

"Gavin. _Please_, I just want to... Gavin!" Wright called after him as he strode into the prosecutor's lobby, and straight into the bathroom.

With the door closed and locked to the noise behind him, Klavier rested his hands on the sink, the bottle still hidden in one hand. He needed to clear his thoughts, he needed to think... He pressed the hand holding the bottle against his forehead. Somehow, he had to lose this case. And all he had left was a closing statement.

...In his heart, beyond the pleasant haziness of the Docidone he'd already taken, Klavier knew what that closing statement would have to say. Moreover, he knew what it would mean for him once he said it.

He thought of Apollo, lying in the hospital bed, and pulled his hand away to hold the bottle up before his eyes. He closed them then, and laughed silently to himself, letting the relaxation wash over him, soothing away the gathering fears. What _was_ fair, anyway?


	6. Chapter 6

The worried look on Trucy's face only deepened as Phoenix returned to the bench - apparently his poker face was deserting him. Then again, he reminded himself, she had that bracelet now. A poker face wouldn't make much difference. "What was it, Daddy?" she asked. "Did you find out?"

He shook his head. He had a pretty good idea, but... "He wouldn't talk to me, he just went into the bathroom and locked the door..." Honestly, Phoenix was worried enough now that he probably wouldn't have been able to keep up a poker face anyway - this was definitely not a game.

He couldn't explain his concerns to Trucy, though, when his client was still sitting right there, biting his nails. "I didn't do it," Bell repeated. "I swear, I didn't do it. ...Do you believe me?"

"...I do," Phoenix admitted. He'd been getting the nagging feeling, ever since he first spoke to the man, that he was telling the truth - but he had assumed it was just his willingness to give people the benefit of the doubt emerging again. Trucy didn't sense any deceit either, though, and Bell's behavior on the witness stand made it clear that he was frightened. And although it was possible that Klavier might think Bell was guilty, that wasn't at all the impression Phoenix was getting. Yet Klavier was prosecuting him as if he was. Why?

"So what do we do?" Bell asked.

Phoenix gazed across the room, where Klavier had disappeared. "...I've got some ideas." He just didn't like any of them that made sense - he'd trusted Klavier the same as he'd trusted one of his clients. More, in fact. That was reversed now.

"Like what?" Trucy asked.

"I think I'm starting to get it..." Phoenix murmured. "Right now, we wait for the recess to finish - and then we see what the prosecution has to say." Assuming Klavier came back after the recess. Phoenix was beginning to wish he'd run after Klavier, not let him get far enough ahead that he could lock the door behind himself... All he could do now was hope he came out again.

To his immense relief, Klavier did return, just before the court reconvened, which meant there was no time for Phoenix to speak to him. That was probably just as he'd planned it. "How does he feel to you?" he asked Trucy quietly.

"Uh... he feels... weird," Trucy murmured, clutching her wrist. "The bracelet is like... it's tight, but it stopped moving..."

That didn't tell Phoenix much, but he didn't really know what he would have expected from the bracelet if the circumstances were as he suspected. "Let me know if anything changes," he told her.

The judge's gavel rang out. "I believe we've reached the end of this trial," he stated, "and I trust the jurors have spent this time weighing the matters of guilt and innocence. Before they give their verdict, however, we will allow each side to give their final thoughts on the case of Cliff Tre' Bell. Let's start with the prosecution. Mr. Gavin?"

Right on cue, Klavier snapped his fingers smartly. "I would like to sing a ballad for you... a ballad of days gone by."

"I'm not sure we have time for that, Mr. Gavin," the judge began, puzzled.

Klavier laughed, and shook his head a little. "Not literally, Herr Judge. I would like to remind the ladies and gentlemen present," he began, "that once upon a time, not so long ago, a verdict was declared based on evidence. Personal feeling played a very small role, if it got any stage time whatsoever." His tone grew more serious. "No matter how much the circumstances made the defendant _appear_ as though they were guilty, even if everyone in attendance believed it to be the truth - without evidence, the defendant must be declared innocent. Well..." He shoved his hands into his pockets, lowering his head slightly. "...Those days are no more. People are now encouraged to use their instincts, their emotions, to reach a decision."

Beside Phoenix, Trucy gasped, and he glanced over to see her clutch at her wrist. He put a hand on her shoulder, both to reassure her and to let her know he understood - Klavier was messing with whatever it was he had in his pocket again. And he was speaking rather eloquently about the lack of evidence his side had put forth, and how meaningless it was. Phoenix was going to have to come up with a good rebuttal for that...

...But then again, maybe not.

"Heh..." Klavier chuckled humorlessly. "It's a great irony... A system put in place so that we might have the freedom to judge more logically - and it relies on the most easily manipulated force in the world - human emotion. I've made a second career out of doing exactly that - manipulating human emotion through music. Funny, how simple it is..."

"Daddy," Trucy whispered urgently, and Phoenix nodded. He was already tensed to act - he just wanted to see where exactly Klavier was going with this.

He was almost talking to himself now, his voice lowered; if the room hadn't been silent, hanging on every word, he would have been inaudible. "When emotions are misapplied... when human instinct fails... it can ruin someone's life. Sometimes more than one. Sometimes... several." He looked up at Bell then, and lowered his sunglasses to meet the man's confused eyes. "...I apologize, Cliff. I... One life destroyed is too many. Two is fair... Yours? It would be indefensible of me to let this continue."

Phoenix's blood ran cold. He _knew_ he shouldn't have let Klavier slip away. "Hold it!" he shouted across the confused silence of the courtroom, pointing his finger at a resigned but softly smiling Klavier. "Klavier Gavin..." Now that he was fairly sure of the answer he'd get, _especially_ now that he could see Klavier's eyes, he didn't want to have to ask. But he did. "I believe the court would like to know what it is that you've been toying with in your pocket throughout the trial."

"Ja... I was getting to that, Herr Wright." His hand slipped out of his pocket, and he held it up. "But you already knew, didn't you?"

There was a gasp throughout the courtroom as everyone saw, quite plainly, the small tinted prescription bottle. "What is the meaning of this?" demanded the judge. "Is that evidence? Is that the bottle of pills used to poison the victim?"

"It is," Klavier agreed, leaning forward to set it on the bench. "But it doesn't belong to Cliff Bell. If you pleases you, you can have it checked for fingerprints, but I can tell you now what you'll find. ...I've done something terrible," he admitted casually, gazing up to the ceiling. "I believe it's only fair that my life as a prosecutor should end now..."

"Bailiff!" The judge's eyebrows furrowed, and the young man stepped forward to take the bottle.

"Wait!" Phoenix exclaimed. Klavier's behavior throughout the trial, during the recess, his sudden confession, his statement about his life being over... Apollo's wasn't over, Phoenix thought furiously - and he would _never_ forgive Klavier if... "Stop the trial! Klavier, you're going to the hospital _right now_, I don't care what-"

Klavier laughed faintly. "Ah, Herr Wright... in this, you're wrong. Go ahead, take a look at the bottle - if you would, bailiff?"

An uncertain glance at the judge, and the bailiff nodded, showing the bottle to Phoenix. ...To his surprise, it was half full. "I'm fine, Herr Wright," Klavier told him quietly. "But I appreciate your concern." With that, he blew Phoenix a kiss, and winked - like Phoenix was one of his fangirls.

...Phoenix was very, very tempted to turn in his badge right now and go back to playing poker - it was never this stressful, he thought as he rested his head in his hands on the bench. At least _one_ thing about this trial hadn't been a disaster.

He still hadn't quite collected himself, and was still head in hands on the bench when Klavier was escorted from the courtroom by two officers, and when the judge declared another recess. He had a feeling that the recess had been declared specifically so he - and everyone else - could collect themselves enough to finish out the trial. The verdict was clear now. Before he'd been taken away, Klavier had made it very, very clear with his statements.

Trucy had been rubbing Phoenix's back lightly, and when he was finally in control of himself enough to straighten up, he found her looking dazed. "Daddy... _he_ did this to Apollo? Did he really?"

Phoenix had no idea what to say to her. "Sweetie, it... I... We'll sort this out somehow."

"I _trusted_ him..." she whispered. "I can't _believe_ it. Why couldn't I see it?"

"I don't think it was on purpose," Phoenix tried to explain, but she shook her head.

"He had reason enough, didn't he? I mean, Apollo put his only family in jail, and broke up his band, and defeated him in court," Trucy said, her eyes narrowing. "And then he just decides all of a sudden that they should start dating? That's ridiculous!"

"Actually, you'd be surprised - there's a certain amount of precedent for that. ...Well, not so much with the band breaking up," Phoenix admitted, "but as far as jailing family and defeating him in court..."

"He _hurt Polly_," Trucy insisted, her lip trembling. "Right after I found out I had a brother! How could he do that?"

She wasn't listening. Phoenix had a feeling she wasn't ready to listen... That was all right - he'd let her sort out how she _felt_ first, then maybe they could talk. He gave her a hug, letting her bury her face in his jacket as she clung to him, and turned to Bell, who had been silent all this time. "I can't say I was exactly expecting _this_," Phoenix admitted, "but I suspected _something_. I guess we can thank Gavin for doing the right thing when the stakes are high."

"...What's going to happen to the guy?" Bell asked warily. "I mean, I always thought he was kind of a stuck-up prick... but he knew that, and he knew the things I said about him, and he _still_ didn't let me get my ass tossed in jail."

"Hard to say," Phoenix said. "It's in the hands of the courts now." Klavier was going to get charged with any number of things before this was over, certainly. Phoenix sighed. "Pretty soon _you_ won't be, at least."

The rest of the trial went pretty much according to Phoenix's expectations. Unanimously, Bell was declared not guilty. The drug possession charges would be dealt with at a later date, and he intended to plead no contest. Just as Klavier had suggested, he was willing to pay Phoenix rather well - Phoenix decided he'd have to treat Trucy to a really nice dinner later on if she was up to it. For the time being, though, she was not at all interested in accompanying him on his next stop after the courthouse. They agreed to meet up later, and as she headed for the hospital to visit Apollo, Phoenix headed for the detention center.

Since Klavier had only just been brought in, his processing wasn't finished yet, and Phoenix had to wait a little while before they could bring him out for visitation. He seemed to be in high spirits, though they'd taken his jacket and his sunglasses already, as well as most of his jewelry. "Herr Wright! I trust the rest of the trial went well, ja?" he asked, sliding into the chair on the opposite side of the glass. "Bell got off? I never meant for him to get caught up in this, you know."

"I know." 'High spirits' was definitely the correct term here, particularly the word 'high', Phoenix thought. No wonder Klavier had been wearing those mirrored shades - his eyes were disturbing. "He was glad that you decided to do the right thing and keep him from incarceration - he didn't expect it of you, after the way he treated you."

"I don't mind," Klavier remarked, running his fingers through his hair idly. "Doesn't matter how someone treats me - I have to do what I believe is right. ...You know, it's funny how close I came to getting away with it."

Phoenix glanced at the security camera, and at the guard. "...Don't say things like that. Especially not here, but preferably not anywhere."

"Ah. I suppose not."

He seemed perfectly at ease with all that had happened, though the reason for that was obvious. "...How many of those pills did you take, Klavier?"

"Three this morning. Two more during the recess, so I wouldn't back out of it. Fear can't touch me now." He leaned forward on his elbows, almost pressing his forehead against the glass pane between them, and grinned. "Back there, you thought I swallowed the whole bottle, ja?"

Phoenix nodded. "You sounded like you'd given up."

"I thought about it," Klavier admitted. "It would have been easy. Too easy - that's why I couldn't do it. I didn't give Apollo a choice, did I? Not fair of me to be allowed a choice, when I didn't give the same choice to someone else."

"Well, I'm very relieved that you didn't. Apollo's not dead - and I don't want to think about what I'd have to tell him when he wakes up if you were gone." This was already going to be difficult enough to explain.

"That was the other thing," Klavier said, his bright grin softening a little. "He's getting better, little by little. Someday he'll wake up, and it wouldn't be polite of me to go and die before he's had a chance to yell at me for awhile."

Phoenix sighed. "You didn't do this on purpose, did you?"

Klavier shook his head, and his expression sobered greatly as he sat back in his chair. "I told you before. I'd never hurt him. I just made a mistake... a stupid mistake."

"You'd taken some of those pills already when you tried to slip him one, didn't you?"

"That doesn't excuse it."

"No, it doesn't," Phoenix agreed. "...What in the world possessed you, that you'd do something like that?"

"Caught up in the mood, I guess," Klavier mused, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Clubbing always did make me a little reckless. It's like I told you before, too - I wanted to see Apollo loosen up. It seemed like a great idea at the time..."

Phoenix shook his head in exasperation, then peered at Klavier more seriously. "How did you wind up with those, anyway? You know better."

"The Docidone? Ah..." Klavier played with his hair a little, distracted. "I was cleaning out my brother's place - the old family manor. Since it had become perfectly obvious he wasn't going to be coming back to it. I don't know if I should redecorate it and live there myself, or put it on the market..." He thought about this for a second. "...I guess I'd better put it on the market."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Phoenix suggested. "The pills were Kristoph's?"

"Ja, it looked that way. If you got a good look at the bottle earlier, you'd have seen his name on it. As far as I could tell, he'd been using it legally. That old wound on his hand still ached sometimes - that's probably what it was for."

"Probably." Kristoph was the kind of guy to poison _other_ people, after all, Phoenix thought. He probably wasn't big on poisoning himself.

"But I'd been in law enforcement," Klavier continued. "I'd been at the clubs. I knew what people used it for, what they say it feels like. I heard it was like it... makes a bubble around you, and keeps all the bad stuff, the worries and the stresses, on the outside. So you're just floating along, and they can't reach you." He nodded vaguely. "Ja... that's what it does, more or less."

Given how Klavier's life had gone over the last couple of years, Phoenix supposed that _would_ have sounded appealing. Though not so much to him. "...I have to admit, I can't imagine what my brain would do to itself if it wasn't allowed to worry. Especially being a dad. I think my brain might break if it couldn't worry."

Klavier chuckled. "Pretty much what I was thinking about Apollo. ...Ach, I didn't expect his brain to _really_ break, though..."

"I know..." Phoenix wanted to reach out, pat his shoulder comfortingly like he would have done for Trucy... His extended, mostly non-biologically related family seemed to be growing awfully large these days. "Speaking of, Gavin - you're going to need a lawyer."

"Not necessary," Klavier said. "I've confessed. I won't lie on the stand. I'll do my time. Ah..." He looked up abruptly. "I forgot to tell you, too... I'd already been intending to pay the hospital bills. Even if I hadn't done it, I've got the money, you don't. It never seemed like a good time to bring it up, or else I forgot..."

"Just how much of the time since Apollo's accident have you spent stoned, anyway?"

"Heh... nearly all of it."

Phoenix shook his head in disbelief, though it was more or less what he'd expected by now. "Regardless... I appreciate it, but that doesn't change the fact you'll need a lawyer to represent you."

"This is a losing case," Klavier reminded him. "I'm guilty."

"I want to take your case anyway," Phoenix insisted.

Klavier chuckled again, glancing off at nothing in particular as he ran his fingers through his hair. "Do you think they'd let me prosecute myself?"

"Uhm... probably not."

"Pity." Klavier grinned. "I could have gotten just one win over you before my career comes crashing down in a premature nosedive. Better to burn out than to fade away, ja?"

Phoenix closed his eyes, gathering his patience. Though he sympathized with Klavier... knowing what he'd done, the fact he'd done it to _Apollo_, and having to talk to him while he was this high was really pushing it. At least he'd agreed to let Phoenix take his case. More or less. "Tell me again about what happened that night, Gavin. The whole truth."

"It's the same story I told you that night, basically." Klavier's grin vanished as his gaze wandered to the window. "He and I were at the club... I had a couple drinks, and a couple pills, and I was feeling good. I wanted him to dance with me, and he wouldn't. So I thought I'd see if one of my pills would lighten him up a little. I bought him a drink, and put the contents of one capsule in as I left the bar. ...I even had a sip of it myself - I never meant to hurt him."

"I believe you," Phoenix assured him. "The courts might not." Trucy didn't, yet.

"There might be no evidence, like in Cliff's trial," Klavier muttered. "But I've confessed... no jury will find me innocent."

"A 'not guilty' isn't the only goal of a defense attorney," Phoenix reminded him.

Klavier said nothing, just gazed out the window. Despite everything, Phoenix really _did_ feel sorry for him. "It looks like your trial has been set for three days from today," he told him. "Enough time to get a new jury together. I'll see you again before then."

Klavier glanced back at him. "Ah... are you leaving?"

He kind of sounded like he'd forgotten Phoenix was there in the first place. Yes, talking to him later would be a good thing. "Yes - I'm going to go see what the police have to say about all of this."

"I bet they'll have a lot to say." Klavier put his head in his hand wearily. "Everyone will. First my band breaks up... then this. Both my careers are over. My life's ruined." Not that he sounded upset about it - mostly just resigned. "I'm going to jail... heh, and it won't go well. You know what's going to happen to me in prison? With a face like this? Hair like this?" He gestured vaguely. "Hah... but I don't know what I'd do if they put me in solitary either. I couldn't accept it like Kristoph did - I couldn't live like that. I'm not like him."

"No," Phoenix agreed quietly. "You're not, Klavier."

Klavier laughed softly again, and looked up. "Maybe I should've swallowed those pills while I had the chance... I won't be getting them back."

Phoenix shook his head. "No, but I'm glad that you didn't. He wouldn't have wanted that."

Klavier shrugged. "...I don't know."

"I do." Phoenix was firm on this. "So will you, someday."

"How can you be so sure?"

"He'll tell you himself," Phoenix said simply.

Three days... A lot could happen in three days, Phoenix thought as he left. An awful lot.


	7. Chapter 7

The next three days were indeed eventful for Klavier. He could have done with a little less eventfulness, in fact.

They'd placed him in solitary for the time being, presumably to give him time to sober up before he had to interact with other inmates. Regretfully, he still felt marvelous late into that afternoon, until after visiting hours were over - which meant that when some of his professional colleagues stopped in to speak with him, he _didn't_ refuse to see them. That evening, when the drugs he'd taken had worked their way out of his system, he realized with abject embarrassment just how high he'd been while he was speaking to them. Laughing over serious matters, blowing the whole thing off as if it were nothing... He couldn't actually remember everything that had happened during those visits, and he hoped that was the worst he'd done. He would have remembered if it wasn't, he tried to tell himself, but the thoughts refused to leave him alone, and he spent the night lying awake on his small cot, clutching his head as if he could physically push them out of his mind. He didn't sleep, though he was exhausted, and not because of the accomodations - he'd slept on worse during tours, during days and nights spent on buses and planes.

He couldn't stand the silence of the cell he'd been placed in, and so the next morning, when he was offered the choice between eating his breakfast there or in a cafeteria with other inmates, he chose the cafeteria. Even if it was as he feared, he thought with a wry smirk as he combed his hair and followed the guard, the suggestive remarks and catcalls might at least soothe his wounded ego - it had suffered a great deal in the last week or so. Upon arrival, however, he realized he'd forgotten one thing. Prison was full of criminals he'd put there personally - and his wasn't a face they easily forgot. No one physically attacked him, in the time he was there, but the glares and the taunting were enough to make him retreat almost immediately. He hadn't really been hungry enough to eat anyway.

Wright and Detective Skye came by just after he'd turned down lunch as well, and he had to think for a moment before he decided he was willing to see them. Or rather, to let them see him. At least it would pass the time. Wright mostly seemed concerned about him, but Skye had a question - though she admitted she could have done it without his consent by going through official channels, would it be all right, she asked, if they had a look around his apartment? He didn't care one way or another; they could do as they pleased. He didn't have much else to say. Before they left, Wright related that Trucy was staying at the hospital with Apollo in his absence, and just that simple statement made Klavier's teeth clench. He wished he could be there again too, sitting with Apollo, listening to music, perhaps playing along, calm and relaxed... Of course, he acknowledged, the only reason it had seemed so pleasant was because he'd been taking those pills.

One request, he added before they could go. If they were going to his apartment, could they bring him that notebook of Apollo's? He hated being kept away, but if he could at least have Apollo's words... Wright and Skye exchanged glances, and agreed.

One of the department's counselors came in to talk with him after they'd left. Klavier didn't feel like talking, and after he'd told her so half a dozen times, she decided to believe him.

Prison was boring. He tried, unsuccessfully, to nap a little while and perhaps get rid of the ache that had been building in his head since that morning. By the time Wright returned, he'd given up and was pacing restlessly. Klavier agreed to go and meet with him, but only because he wanted that notebook so badly. Other than that, he didn't feel like talking at all. Screaming perhaps, but not talking.

Not only had Wright brought the notebook, but news from the hospital as well - Apollo had opened his eyes, though only for a few moments before closing them again. He wasn't _awake_, the doctors had said, but he'd progressed from a deep coma to what they called a vegetative state, where the patient could sometimes perform actions on his own, but still wasn't truly conscious of them, or of his surroundings. Klavier started to say how glad he was to hear it, but quickly realized that there was no way he was going to be able to comment without breaking down and crying; he wanted so badly to have been there, and to be there _now_, and the ache in his head was unbearable. Instead, he just nodded.

Was he all right, Wright asked. Klavier nodded again. Was there anything else he wanted from his place, or anything else he could think of that he needed? He shook his head. He couldn't properly express his gratitude towards Wright for having brought the notebook, but he grew somewhat less grateful towards the man when, as he was leaving, Wright said a few words to the guard - and not long after Klavier had gone back to the cell, the counselor was back. Klavier said nothing to her either - every word made his head ache more - and eventually she gave up and left.

Yes, he knew that his current frustration and emotional instability was primarily due to his having overused the Docidone and developing a dependance on it. Knowing it didn't make it go away, and they weren't going to give him the one thing that _would_.

Klavier picked at his dinner, refused to see anyone else who wanted to speak to him, and spent the evening trying to read Apollo's notebook. It was no use - he couldn't focus, and found himself having turned several pages, yet was unable to remember anything about them. Except the handwriting. Apollo's handwriting was just like him - impatient, but steady. Steady was perhaps the last word Klavier could have used to describe himself at the moment, and the handwriting was at least somewhat comforting. Especially the vowels, for some reason, and he lingered on the shapes of the As and the Os.

The night was spent curled up on his cot, grinding his teeth until he thought they might break, and counting just to prove to himself that time was indeed passing, despite all indications to the contrary, and that at some point the sun would rise. He must have drifted off at some point, because when he sat up, he didn't remember what number he was on.

Shortly afterwards, he was informed it was time for breakfast, and he tried to eat it. He was feeling shaky, and he thought it might take up some more of this sudden abundance of time. It turned out to serve the latter purpose doubly well; some time passed while he made himself eat, and then more time passed as he became overly well acquainted with the toilet. Tension, surely, given the way he was shaking, but telling himself that didn't help.

He didn't even sit up on his cot when the counselor made another appearance, but he tiredly told her he thought he felt a little better. He knew perfectly well that if he told her how he really felt, he'd be moved to a room with padded walls and no sheets, and he'd have his socks and earrings taken away too. Like he would ever choke himself with his _socks_ \- that would hardly be a fitting end for a multi-platinum rock idol. It would be pathetic, and rather disgusting.

Klavier didn't remember her leaving, but she must have at some point, beause amidst his mental ponderings of what _would_ be a properly glamorous and rock-idolish way to go (he was certain it would have to involve black leather, and maybe a shiny pair of handcuffs), he suddenly became aware of someone opening the door to his cell. It wasn't the counselor leaving, he found when he parted the fingers of the hand he had over his eyes, but Wright entering. On the one hand, Klavier wished they'd just have let him go on dreaming - he felt completely drained. On the other hand, Wright was a comforting presence, and he knew the man honestly wanted to help him, and the one thing Klavier wanted more than anything at the moment was for _someone_ to do _something_ that would make him feel better. Specifically Apollo, but since that wasn't possible, anyone else who was in such a state that they could help him would be welcome.

On the other hand yet again, judging from the look on Wright's face, whatever had brought him here probably wasn't going to make Klavier feel better.

"Herr Wright?" he inquired, starting to prop himself up on his elbows. He'd been meaning to sit up, but lost interest halfway. "Why are you-"

"No, don't get up," Wright told him, shaking his head. "They said you weren't doing so well today, and the counselor they assigned you had recommended that you shouldn't be disturbed. ...This is kind of important, though, so they said rather than bringing you out to visitation, they'd just let me come on in." In the absence of a chair, Wright just settled down on his heels beside the cot, peering at Klavier with concern. "How are you holding up?"

He looked ridiculous, Klavier thought, squatting there by his bed. Not like a lawyer at all. More like a kid. Or a dad. Or, given their relative ages, a protective big brother. ...A big brother like the one Klavier had _thought_ he had - one who wasn't a psychotic murderer. Klavier's laugh was shaky, and a little giddy. "Will you tell them if I answer honestly?"

"Only if you want me to. ...Or if I feel it's necessary."

"I can't tell them honestly when they ask," Klavier murmured. "They'd put me on suicide watch."

"Uh, actually, they sort of already have," Wright admitted. "That bad, huh?"

"I can't sleep, I can't eat. I'm bored out of my mind, but I can't focus enough to even read. My skull is splitting..." Klavier's hand pressed against his head again as he settled back. "I just wish I could... pass out, sleep. Anything."

"Well... you were sleeping before they let me in."

"I was...? I don't remember, it's all blurred..."

He felt Wright's hand settle on his arm, and squeeze it firmly. "It'll pass, Klavier. I hear the first few days off intense Docidone use can be rough, but it gets better."

Klavier moaned faintly. "Wish I could just sleep through it..."

"Unfortunately, even if you were sleeping better..." Wright's tone grew a little darker. "...Your trial starts tomorrow. You're going to have to be awake for that."

"Why? I trust you to take care of it..."

There was a long pause, then a little exhalation of breath, like a silent laugh, and the hand on his arm squeezed again. "Thanks, Klavier. That means a lot, after everything you and I have seen."

"Heh... don't be too impressed," Klavier muttered. "I don't care so much about anything right now."

"Even so." The hand removed itself after a moment. "But seriously. I've got some bad news."

Klavier's first thought made his stomach twist. "Apollo?"

"No, no!" Wright said quickly. "He's okay - as okay as he has been, anyway."

"Mmm..." Klavier settled down, then. He didn't care about anything _else_, apparently.

"It's about your trial," Wright continued. "They're... overreacting a little, it looks like."

"Hmm...?"

There was a soft, reluctant sigh. "...Someone got it into their head that they should take the angle of you doing this to Apollo out of malice."

If Klavier had had enough breath in him to exclaim in horrified shock, he would have. He was too exhausted to speak without forcing himself. And by the time he'd thought about it enough that he might have been able to react aloud, the shock had somewhat worn off. He just sighed himself. There wasn't much else he could do.

"We can fight this," Wright told him firmly. "You're a social butterfly, right? There are plenty of people we could call on as character witnesses. Who would you recommend?"

Klavier inhaled, closed his eyes. "...Forgive me, Herr Wright," he mumbled after a moment. "It's hard for me to think."

Wright made a quiet noise of acquiescence. "I'm sorry I have to lay this on you right now - but the trial's tomorrow, so we don't have much choice."

"It's my own fault," Klavier acknowledged. "...The problem is," he added, "I can't stop thinking like a prosecutor. You say you'll bring someone to testify that I never seemed to be the kind of person who would hurt Apollo, I say it's easy enough to turn that around and ask if I'd ever seemed like the kind of person who would use drugs illegally. Anyone I can think of would answer both in the negative - but one has already been proven, so..."

"Hmm..." Wright sat back again, thinking. "Of course, I don't know who's prosecuting. It might be someone who's not as quick-thinking as you are."

"You can always try it, ja?" Klavier agreed half-heartedly. "The Gavinners... My old band would be a good source."

"Other than Crescend?"

Klavier laughed softly, and without any humor whatsoever. "I don't think he'd lie on the stand at this point... but best not to tempt him. As for the rest, I still keep in touch - their numbers are in my cell phone. Skye can probably get it for you, I was wearing it when I was brought in."

"Wow, you really must be feeling terrible," Wright observed. "You didn't call her 'Fraulein' or anything. ...I wonder if she'd be a character witness too."

"Nein, not a good one," Klavier said flatly. "I'm always getting on her nerves, and on purpose. She probably hates me."

"Is that what you think? She was the one who tipped me off about this development, you know."

Klavier opened his eyes, peering up at Wright in surprise. "Did she...?"

Wright nodded. "There's a big difference between finding someone annoying and thinking they're a terrible person."

"Nnn... I suppose there is," Klavier conceded, and tried thinking a little further. He knew a lot of people, but there weren't so many who knew him well - really knew _him_, as opposed to the face he wore for the fans and the magazines. "What about Trucy? We've spent a lot of time around each other since Apollo and I started dating, and especially since..." He didn't need to finish that - which was good, because he didn't _want_ to, either.

"Actually, I hate to tell you this," Wright began, and he _did_ sound reluctant. "Trucy's not exactly your biggest fan right now."

Klavier pressed his hand over his eyes again - his head was simply throbbing now. He could hardly be surprised by that, though. In fact... "Why aren't _you_ angry with me, Herr Wright? I know you consider Apollo to be a part of your family, just as she does."

"Who said I'm not angry at you?"

Klavier made a curious little sound of confusion. "Furious, actually," Wright told him, his tone growing serious. Klavier heard him rise to his feet, take a few steps away. "You did something _incredibly_ stupid, Klavier, and Apollo's paying the price for it. And not only did he wind up hurt, but now my little girl is hurting too. You can't possibly imagine how it feels for a father to see his little girl crying."

"I'm _so_ sorry," Klavier murmured earnestly. He could hear the frustration in Wright's voice. "I know I did wrong, you deserve to be furious. I know that. What I don't know is... why are you defending me?"

"Because I can clearly see that _you're_ hurting too," Wright stated. "What is 'justice', Klavier? It's making sure that to the best of our ability, people get what they deserve. And while you _do_ deserve some misery for the stupid decisions you made, I don't believe you deserve to have your life ruined because of them. It was unmerited pain that drove you to those stupid decisions anyway." He paused, Klavier heard him turn back, taking a breath, calming. "Adding more pain might just cause you to make _more_ stupid decisions," he added, with the hint of a smirk in his voice.

"Heh..." Klavier couldn't help smirking a little himself. Given the thoughts he'd been thinking over the last couple days, Wright was probably correct. "I still say you're showing me more kindness than I deserve... but danke."

"You could be right," Wright admitted. "But I don't care - we'll sort it out later, when things have settled down. Okay, Klavier? For the time being, don't mention it."

In the comfortable silence that followed, Klavier realized something. "Herr Wright?" he inquired with vague curiosity. "When did you start calling me 'Klavier' instead of 'Gavin'?"

Wright paused. "You know, I'm not sure," he mused, coming back over to stand by Klavier's cot as Klavier managed to sit up, resting his head in his hands tiredly. "To be honest, I didn't think of you as 'Prosecutor Gavin' for long after that first trial of ours. After all, I was close to your brother then. I couldn't be mad about what you did to me in court, after I started putting together what really happened, and I wasn't a lawyer anymore, so that context was gone... So in my head, you went from 'Prosecutor Gavin' to 'Kristoph's brother Klavier'."

"Ah." Klavier wasn't sure he liked that designation.

"And then, not too long ago," Wright added, "you and Apollo hooked up. Things got... a little complicated there." He scratched his head thoughtfully. "After all, Trucy's my daughter, and Apollo's her brother, but it's hard to imagine him being my son. So all of a sudden, while I was already trying to figure out what _Apollo_ was in relation to me, you came back into the picture - but Kristoph was already out of the picture by that time, or close enough. So who were you? It's kind of unwieldy, thinking of you as 'my adopted daughter's half-brother's boyfriend Klavier who's also the brother of this guy I used to know'."

"Um... ja." Klavier nearly laughed despite his discomfort.

"Eventually I realized that I was thinking too much about it," said Wright, matter-of-fact. "Even before the truth came out about Apollo's relation to Trucy, he'd sort of been adopted into our family, if unofficially. So Apollo is just 'Apollo, part of the family'. And if he's part of the family, and he wants _you_ to be part of _his_ family, then that means that outside of our professional lives, to me you're just 'Klavier, part of the family'. ...I hope that doesn't bother you."

It wasn't so much Wright's words or the meaning behind them that made tears suddenly sting Klavier's eyes. It was the way he said it, as if it was no bother, as if it were the simplest thing on earth, being family. How could Wright think of family, and who that word should name, so simply?

And then, too, there was a significant logistical error. "Herr Wright..." he mumbled, after swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. "I don't think it would be correct to say that I'm Apollo's boyfriend anymore. Or that he wants me to be a part of his family."

"Hey now - let's not go fixing things that aren't broken," Wright admonished him, teasing. "I've finally got this figured out - all the bugs out of the system - and I don't want to change it unless I really have to. Got it?"

"J... ja," Klavier murmured with a shaky laugh, and felt the older man's hand rest on his head, a little higher than his own, to ruffle his hair a little. He felt like a little kid again, sort of... but it wasn't a bad feeling. Especially in comparison to everything else he'd been feeling.

"I'm going to go see about making those phone calls, now that we've got _that_ straightened out," Wright told him, standing straight again. "Anything I can get for you, to make you more comfortable? We've got some time before visiting hours are over."

Klavier was _so_ tired of being awake and exhausted, shaking and in pain and unable to concentrate. "You're officially on the case, ja?" he asked quietly, looking up at Wright between his fingers. "So you've got access to the evidence... I'm sure they filed that bottle." He took a deep breath - he wanted it so bad it hurt. "Surely you could just... slip a few out... just a couple, even just _one_..."

Wright said nothing, just looked down at him with a growing frown, and Klavier was suddenly struggling not to cry. "Please...? I just want to sleep..."

"Klavier." The friendly tone of Wright's voice had changed to something stern and hard, as hard as the stare he was now giving Klavier. "You are _not_ touching that stuff. _Ever again._ You need to understand this."

Klavier closed his fingers over his face again, trembling harder. He'd expected as much, but he just _had_ to ask.

Wright's footsteps moved away, towards the door to the cell. "This is something I don't know how to help you with," he said finally. "If your counselor comes back, though? I suggest you try talking to her - she _will_ know how to help."

Klavier would have said that he'd try, but he refused to break down over this. He'd held himself together this long - _this_ would not be what broke him. Unfortunately, it would if he opened his mouth at that moment.

Eventually, at some point after Phoenix had left, the counselor did return, and he did try. A little. He couldn't get far without his throat tightening, and after he managed to admit that he wanted sleep more than _anything_, he couldn't go any further, or really hear what she was telling him as he sat there hugging himself, physically trying to hold himself together. Except the part where she said this was about as bad as it was likely to get - he'd feel better soon. But no, he didn't want to talk about how he felt about what had happened to Apollo. Even if he had, he couldn't.

He didn't bother with dinner, after breakfast had wound up being thoroughly useless, and wound up sitting with Apollo's notebook again. He discovered that he was starting to comprehend the words he read again, and shortly thereafter stumbled across Apollo's recap of their first case together. He was soon shaking harder - but in a good way for a change, from laughter - when he found that Apollo had picked up Detective Skye's 'glimmerous fop' nickname for a time. Out of curiosity, he skimmed forward a ways, and wound up laughing so hard he was almost crying when he spotted that nickname right at the start of Apollo's entry about their first date.

His mirth evaporated as he read further, thinking about just what he'd lost when he'd poured that little capsule into Apollo's glass. It distracted him somewhat from his physical discomfort and the chaos in his mind, but such thoughts weren't much more pleasant to dwell on, and when he couldn't stand it anymore, he curled up on his cot again, just shivering and staring at the wall; his eyes refused to close for longer than a few seconds. He wished Apollo was there so badly, to stroke his hair or rub his back or just to hold him...

"Hey... Klavier." He'd heard footsteps out in the corridor, but assumed they were going elsewhere - the quiet whisper startled him, and after a moment, he managed to roll over and look. "You weren't sleeping, were you?"

Klavier shook his head a little, and sat up. He didn't feel quite so awful as he had, now that he was paying attention. "Herr Wright? What time is it?"

"Yeah, visiting hours are long past," Wright admitted, stepping back, and only then did Klavier realize there was a guard with him, unlocking the door so he could come inside. "I got special permission."

"...What for?"

"I wanted to bring you something to help you sleep." The older man smiled, and held up what looked like a sack. "Barely rescued from the clutches of Trucy - she wanted to do laundry tonight."

Klavier looked at the object Wright was holding for a moment before it dawned on him that he was holding a pillow. He knew that faded, slightly greyed, blue-striped pillowcase. ...He didn't know what to say.

After what seemed like a very long silence, the two of them simply looking at each other, Wright stepped forward, offering it. "It's okay. Really."

Klavier reached up to accept it, and decided quickly that he didn't care about his 'cool' image - he buried his face in it, inhaling the scent, hugging it so hard that it could have popped. This might, he thought, be the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him in his entire life, and he was glad his face was covered, because he really _was_ going to cry now.

Wright seemed to understand anyway, and after a moment, Klavier felt arms around him as his shoulders shook violently. He could almost pretend they were Apollo's, when the scent of his hair and his shampoo and his sweat were coming with every breath he took.

The dreaming couldn't last forever, though, and eventually Wright drew back, his hand ruffling Klavier's hair again as he stood up. "...So Trucy says he woke up again today, a couple of times. And you know something really great? He spoke. A real word."

"Ja...?" The reply was heavily muffled by the pillow. "What did he say?"

"Just for a second he opened his eyes and said, very clearly, 'Song.' He closed them again then, but Trucy figured he probably wanted that CD you brought, and turned it on for him..."

"...I wish I could be there," Klavier murmured.

"I know. Maybe you will be again, soon, but we have to get through all this first." The hand in his hair withdrew. "I hope this helps - you need to be well-rested for tomorrow. ...I'll see you at the courthouse, okay?"

Klavier nodded, or at least bent his head further against the pillow a couple times. He didn't take it from his face at all.

There was a soft chuckle. "Don't suffocate yourself, now," Wright cautioned him. "Just sleep. ...Night, Klavier."

"Guten nacht, Herr Wright."

Another little pause. "...You know, you can call me Phoenix if you want. Outside of the courtroom, anyway."

After all of this, it was probably appropriate. "...Danke."

Once he'd gone, Klavier tried to do as he'd suggested, and lay down again, snuggling into Apollo's pillow. He'd been exhausted forever, it seemed... but this time, to his surprise, he slept.


	8. Chapter 8

"I stopped in to have a look at him this morning." Ema popped another Snackoo into her mouth, with such precision it could have been a military drill. Everyone was running a tight ship this morning, it seemed. "He looks like hell. I instructed them to give him back his sunglasses before they brought him over."

Phoenix frowned thoughtfully. "Nice of you... But I think his chances will be better if everyone can plainly _see_ that he feels terrible."

Ema shook her head. "That may be true," she said ominously, "but you know what _we_ had to go through to get here..."

He did. There was a mob outside, encircling the courthouse, shrieking and snapping pictures. They could thank the news media for that - 'Tables Turn On Gavin - Prosecutor and Former Idol Confesses During Trial' was all people had been talking about since the story broke. People were taking sides as if _they_ were holding trial. "It's kind of a miracle we even managed to find six people in this city who hadn't already made up their minds," Phoenix remarked with a nod.

"And meanwhile, everyone else who has is out there." Ema gestured towards the courthouse doors. "And they all have cameras. Whether you win today or not, Herr Diva would probably kill himself if pictures wound up getting circulated showing him with bloodshot eyes and dark circles under them."

Phoenix wouldn't have gone that far... but he smiled nonetheless. As much as Ema didn't want to admit it, she'd done something very kind for Klavier. "You've got a point."

She couldn't talk long - after all, she was supposed to be on the opposing side - and soon Phoenix was left alone in the defendant's lobby. Trucy wanted to be with Apollo, in case he woke up again and was really conscious this time, so he'd left her at the hospital. Miles had flown in from Europe two nights before, but only for moral support and advice (and some good old-fashioned stress relief), since he was currently not practicing in the States; he would be watching, but not from either bench. Maya had her own responsibilities now, and Pearls had no reason to come out this way... Even Gumshoe had moved on. It felt strange to be handling a trial without any of them at his side.

Hopefully he wouldn't be completely alone in this, though. If Klavier was feeling better than he had been yesterday, his perspective as a prosecutor could be useful. But given how miserable he'd been yesterday, and Ema's report that he'd still looked awful this morning, Phoenix wasn't going to bet on it.

Contrary to Ema's observations, when Klavier arrived, Phoenix thought he looked much better. He was standing more or less straight, he'd styled his hair, he'd gotten his jewelry back, he was dressed well, he had a nice neutral expression... When he got a little closer to Phoenix and fiddled with the sunglasses, though, Phoenix changed his mind - Klavier only looked like he'd pulled himself together until you got close and looked him in the eye. He was still shaking, his eyes were red and puffy. "...Did you get any sleep?" Phoenix asked.

Klavier nodded. "Ja... some. I..." He glanced away, seeming slightly embarrassed. "Again, Herr Wr... Phoenix," he corrected himself. "I must say..."

"Don't mention it," Phoenix assured him. "Let's focus on the present, not the past. How are you feeling?"

"Better... though still not what I'd call 'good'."

"You look pretty good," Phoenix noted.

"Ah, thank you... Had to live up to my fans' expectations, didn't I?" He laughed a little, but it was bitter. "If this is the last time I'm seen in the public eye, I couldn't look like I was falling apart. I want them to remember me cool and collected, like the star I was."

Ema had made the right call then, Phoenix thought. Klavier was just putting on another of his performances. "This isn't the end, Klavier. I'm sure they'll be seeing more of you." He was a little worried, though, about the way Klavier was talking. "...Did you end up talking to your counselor?"

Klavier nodded. "A little... she asked about the pillow."

"And?"

"...I told her whose it was." Klavier nudged his sunglasses, making sure they were in place. "And why."

"Good," Phoenix affirmed with satisfaction. Aside from his opinion that the kid really could use some therapy... "I intended to call her to testify about your state of mind." Klavier's eyebrows furrowed above the dark frames. "Oh, don't get me wrong - doctor/patient confidentiality means she won't go into specifics unless it's absolutely necessary. But having a professional state the opinion that you are in fact distraught about the incident and show no signs of malice? It should be useful."

"Heh." Klavier shook his head slightly. "You're more thorough than my brother used to imply."

"When your brother knew me as a lawyer," Phoenix said dryly, "I never had three days to prepare before the trial started. I was lucky if I had twenty-four hours."

"Come to think of it... he also wasn't aware that you would be willing to spend seven years on your investigation of the false evidence you had been given."

It was Phoenix's turn to chuckle. "Well, obviously he never figured out why I became a lawyer in the first place."

"Hmm?"

"Let's just say that when I really want to figure something out, I'm willing to go to great lengths to get the information I need." He'd introduce the two of them later, he supposed... but for now, he had a trial to attend. "We're almost ready to start - anything I can get you before we head in?" Aside from pills, and if Klavier asked for Docidone again, Phoenix was going to be really, really annoyed.

Klavier considered for a moment, and apparently was thinking along the same lines. "...You wouldn't get mad if I asked if you have any pain relievers on you that _aren't_ illegal, ja?" he asked with a weak smile, pressing a hand against his temple. "My head is still killing me."

Weak as the smile was, it was charming, which was a relief. Klavier sort of looked and sounded like himself again, at least for the moment. "Yeah, I learned a long time ago to always keep something on hand during trials," he said, reaching into one of his suit's pockets and rummaging around. "I bought a little travel size bottle, but hardly ever needed it, so I would just leave it there until next time..."

...Which explained, when he pulled out a small bottle of the cheapest pain reliever he had been able to buy back in the day, it had very different packaging than the current advertisements showed. He peered at the expiration date on the bottom. "...Uh, do you happen to know what happens to aspirin when it expires?"

"How long ago?"

"Six years," Phoenix admitted. "I haven't exactly had much occasion to wear this suit lately."

And that was why, when Phoenix led Klavier into the courtroom, his client was practically doubled over laughing. Phoenix wasn't offended - he really needed it.

* * *

Klavier was abruptly laughing again, silently but somewhat hysterically, as the trial started, but this time Phoenix didn't find it the slightest bit amusing.

"Well, Mr. Wright? Is the defense as ready as the prosecution?" the judge intoned.

"...The defense is ready too, yes." If somewhat horrified.

"I'm not surprised to see that the defense is already quaking in its boots," the man across the room sneered. "In fact, your client seems to have already given up."

Phoenix elbowed Klavier, trying to stop the fit of helpless stifled laughter. "They're letting _Winston Payne_ prosecute this case!?" he hissed. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"He _was_ very upset that he didn't get to handle your first case after reinstatement," Klavier murmured in reply, "but everyone agreed it was mine to prosecute. Now he has a grudge against both of us, it seems..." He shrugged. "Ja, all you can do is laugh."

"I've come a long way since our first match," Payne stated, leaning forward on the bench with an ominous smile. "Now, Mr. Wright, you'll see how I've grown..."

"He's grown his hair, anyway," Phoenix muttered. "Seriously, Klavier - what does this mean for us? This is a high-profile case. Why is he prosecuting?"

"Two possibilities," Klavier suggested. "Often we let Payne take the big cases which the head prosecutor knows we haven't got a chance of winning."

"Encouraging," Phoenix observed. "And the other possibility?"

"They'll also let him take a big case now and then when it's so airtight, even he couldn't lose it."

"...Less encouraging." Phoenix thought about this for a moment. "Given the lack of evidence, I'm going to have to go with the former assumption."

"We are here today," Payne was saying, "to make the guilt of Klavier Gavin, former prosecutor and musician of some repute, crystal clear to the court and to the public. Mr. Gavin is accused of placing an illegal substance in the drink of his rival defense attorney, Apollo Justice, for the purpose of revenge."

"What!?" Phoenix kept his exclamation to an incredulous whisper, though the court erupted at Payne's statement. "It was ridiculous enough that he was going to prosecute this as intentional, but _revenge_?"

Klavier wasn't laughing anymore, or even smiling. "Not ridiculous, Herr Wright. It's what I would have done, if I cared more about victory than justice."

"...Well, at least it's still Payne," Phoenix muttered. Payne couldn't take this any further than he'd been able to take any other argument. Or so he hoped.

The judge was banging his gavel for order. "Revenge, Mr. Payne? This is the first time the court has heard of such a motive. Please explain."

"Rather than explaining myself," Payne said, "I would like to call the defendant to the stand, so that the court may hear it in his own words."

Phoenix's eyes darted to Klavier, whose look of confusion was obvious even with the sunglasses on. Klavier glanced back and frowned slightly, but nodded.

"Very well - Mr. Gavin, please take the stand," the judge agreed.

"Be careful," Phoenix murmured as Klavier gingerly stepped forward, and Klavier gave him another slight nod. He was a genius, Phoenix knew that, so he wouldn't have been worried under ordinary circumstances... but between withdrawal, lack of sleep, and days upon days of worry and guilt, Klavier was not at his brightest.

"State your name and occupation, if you please," Payne instructed Klavier when he reached the witness stand.

"Klavier Gavin..." Klavier offered a tired smile. "Former front man of a chart-topping band, now merely a prosecutor. At least, until this happened..."

"Yes, quite a prosecutor, in fact. Your record in court was as spectacular as the records you sold," Payne simpered. "Until the victim in this case, Mr. Justice, appeared on the opposite side of the courtroom - is that correct?"

The smile vanished. "Ah, well..."

Phoenix knew at once what Payne was hoping to suggest. "Objection! Mr. Gavin's record has _remained_ impressive," he stated, "even after the victim began his career as a defense attorney."

"But you've never managed to beat _him_," Payne pointed out, turning to Klavier. "Mr. Justice himself has defeated you time and time again in the courtroom. Is this correct?"

"...Ja... it is."

"Objection!" Phoenix interjected again. "This is irrelevant - cases are decided on an individual basis, weighing the evidence for each side. If it just so happens that in each case where Gavin and Justice have faced each other, the defendant was innocent, that has little to do with Gavin's feelings towards Justice." He turned to Klavier. "A question for the defendant - did you ever feel that a verdict was unjust, in the trials where you faced Mr. Justice?"

Klavier shook his head, and Phoenix thought he looked slightly relieved. "Nein. I reached my own conclusions about each case during the course of the trials, and each time I came to believe that the defendant was innocent. I have no issue with any of the verdicts that have been handed down."

"And yet you were defeated," Payne put forth, tapping his fingers thoughtfully against his forehead. "Going by my own experiences, being defeated again and again and again can cause one to build up feelings of resentment..." Payne would know about being repeatedly defeated, Phoenix thought to himself. "Can you honestly say, Mr. Gavin," Payne continued, "that there wasn't a part of you that wanted to be victorious over Mr. Justice, just once?"

Klavier opened his mouth, started to speak, and stopped short. "...Ah... I..."

Before Phoenix could object - _obviously_ most people liked to win, but that didn't mean they would drug somebody - Payne went on. "Would you be willing to testify about what happened at the club that night, and what you did to Mr. Justice?"

"...Ja, I will testify." Klavier sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets, looking up to the ceiling. "That night... was the third time I'd taken Apollo to the club with me. I'd been under a lot of stress..."

"Would you clarify about the stress you were under?" Payne inquired. "What precisely was weighing on you?"

"...My brother's incarceration, for one thing," Klavier replied. "And then there was the dissolution of my band, the Gavinners-"

"Due to another incarceration - Daryan Crescend, your second guitarist, correct?"

"Ja."

"And isn't it true," Payne went on to say, "that both these incarcerations were largely due to the efforts of Mr. Justice, who fingered them in the process of clearing his own client from guilt?"

Phoenix froze, seeing where this was going. He couldn't object again just yet - this was a simple statement of fact. But why did Payne have to get smart _now_?

Klavier hesitated for a long moment before replying. "...I would say that both incarcerations were due to the efforts of Herr Justice _and myself_ as we worked together to determine the truth, so as not to convict an innocent, or to let the guilty go free. Furthermore, if we were to strip this remix down to the bare melody, you would find that the ones most directly responsible for these incarcerations are the ones who violated the law and committed murder."

Phoenix breathed a sigh of relief as Payne scowled. No need to object after all - even when not at one hundred percent, the kid was good.

"Anyhow, suffice to say that your life had gone through a major upheaval," Payne continued, though obviously a little disgruntled that he hadn't managed to make his point. "And Mr. Justice had a great deal to do with that, didn't he?"

Klavier nodded. "He did - in the sense that his insistence on the truth made me unable to look past the misdeeds of my brother and my friend. They were not good influences on my character. Apollo Justice... Apollo _is_, and he never let my foolish associations with the two of them color his opinion of me. I don't know where I would be now if not for him."

The room was buzzing as onlookers whispered to each other, and the crease in Payne's forehead grew darker and deeper in his frustration. Phoenix simply relaxed and smiled. He would have liked to have a little fun with Payne himself, but if Klavier could handle it, he supposed that was all right.

"Heh... now that we've gotten that straight..." Payne muttered. Phoenix had a feeling that if Trucy were here with the bracelet, she'd see Payne sweating bullets. Phoenix could practically see it himself. "About the night at the club. Let's go back to that, shall we?"

"...Where was I...?" As good as Klavier's answers had been, he still looked out of it. "Ah, yes. I was feeling a great deal of stress, and clubbing has always been a good outlet for that. Even the loud music and the dancing wasn't enough more recently," he admitted, toying with his hair absently. "I'd begun needing pills to relax and have a good time. I took two that evening."

"This would be the Docidone, the same medication that you put in Mr. Justice's drink?"

"Ja, it was." Klavier looked at the floor, subdued. "I was feeling good. He didn't care much for the atmosphere at the club, though, and wasn't having a good time. ...I wanted him to have as good a time as I was having. So I bought him a drink... and I spiked it with the Docidone, hoping it would help him to relax."

"To be clear," Payne put in, "you are openly admitting to having put the drug in Mr. Justice's drink?"

Klavier lifted his head, looking straight at him. "I am, ja. Not in an attempt to hurt him, but in a foolish, selfish notion of generosity. I broke open one capsule, and dumped the contents into his drink, and then - after speaking briefly with the members of Screaming Mercy, who headlined at the previous trial for this incident - I brought it to his table."

"And you watched him drink it?"

Klavier shook his head, and his shoulders slumped. "We... exchanged words briefly. Both of us knew he wasn't having a good time. I walked away from the table, giving him a moment to himself, and hoping he'd be feeling as good as I was feeling when I returned."

"As good as you were feeling?"

Klavier laughed softly. "I was high. I could have done the most ridiculous thing and felt no shame."

"After two of the pills?" Payne pressed.

"Yes."

"Then why is it," Payne inquired, "that if you wanted him to 'feel as good as you were feeling', you gave him only one - half of what you had taken?"

"I'd taken Docidone before, " Klavier pointed out. "As far as I knew, he hadn't. And I didn't want it to be obvious something funny was going on, ja? I was hoping that he'd not question why he was feeling relaxed."

"That's certainly considerate of you," Payne stated, with a little smirk that Phoenix didn't like at all. "Were you intending to tell him later?"

"I don't know - I was high," Klavier repeated. "My thought processes were less than all-inclusive at that time."

"An interesting answer," Payne remarked, "but I believe that you had no intentions of telling him what you had done."

Klavier chuckled slightly. "I had no intentions of _not_ telling him either - I had no intentions whatsoever in this. I wasn't thinking far enough ahead."

"Or perhaps," Payne suggested, "you had no reason to think ahead."

Klavier just looked at him. "Was...?"

"Your motivations could be as you've stated, yes, sloppy from the drugs you'd taken beforehand," Payne admitted. "But then again, Mr. Gavin, you're usually quite good at thinking things through - which leads me to another hypothesis."

"I believe the court would be interested in hearing this hypothesis, Mr. Payne," the judge put in. "If you would get to the point?"

"Yes, Your Honor." Payne straightened. "I put forth the following theory - that Mr. Gavin gave Mr. Justice only one pill, less than he himself had taken, because he knew that was all it would take."

Klavier frowned, still not understanding. "I thought so, yes..." Phoenix was starting to get the idea, though - and he couldn't believe Payne was suggesting it.

"And by 'all it would take'," Payne continued, "I mean 'all it would take to _completely incapacitate_ Mr. Justice', who has an abnormal sensitivity to the drug he ingested. A single dose, less than a recreational user would take, was enough to put him in a coma. And Mr. Gavin knew this."

Yes, that was where Phoenix thought he was going, and he raised his voice above the murmur of the crowd. "Objection! How do you propose that my client knew this?"

"They've been close for some time, haven't they?"

"Apollo's lived with me for months," Phoenix retorted, "and I wasn't aware of his sensitivity until this incident. It was on his medical records, true - but I had to get express permission from his family to access those records. How would Gavin have found out?"

"The medical records also say that Mr. Justice knew of what the potential reaction to this drug would be," Payne stated. "Perhaps he and Mr. Gavin discussed it once?"

This was ridiculous. Phoenix looked to Klavier. "Well...?"

"Apologies, Herr Payne," Klavier said, shaking his head, "but sitting around and discussing drug allergies is not my idea of interesting conversation."

"And besides..." Phoenix was on a roll this time. "How exactly would you explain Gavin's actions _after_ he put the drug in Apollo's drink, if his intention was to harm him? When the ambulance arrived, he was performing CPR - the doctors said it was the only thing that saved Apollo's life!"

"I never suggested that Mr. Gavin's intent might have been murder," Payne pointed out. "Perhaps it was only injury, humiliation. Perhaps he wanted to make certain it looked like an accident, and that he had tried to prevent it."

"But it _was_ an accident," Phoenix retorted, "and he _was_ trying to prevent it!"

Payne shook his head smugly. "But how can we be certain? Please allow me to remind the court of a statement made by the defendant," he said, reaching for one of the papers before him, "during the trial of Cliff Tre' Bell, at the time when Mr. Gavin revealed that he, not Bell, was the culprit. In regards to the jurist system, I quote: 'It relies on the most easily manipulated force in the world - human emotion. I've made a second career out of doing exactly that - manipulating human emotion through music. Funny, how simple it is...'"

...Klavier had been even higher when he made that statement than he had been that night at the club, Phoenix recalled, with a growing feeling of dread. He hadn't thought about the ramifications of that statement much himself at the time, worried as he was that Klavier might have taken his judgment into his own hands.

"And so you see," Payne concluded, flipping his hair over his shoulder (a gesture which Phoenix found profoundly disturbing for multiple reasons), "Mr. Gavin himself admits to being a master at manipulating the emotions of the general public. Anything he's done or said, _anything at all_ that might make him appear to be remorseful, is suspect. He is a _professional performer_ \- and this may well be his swan song."

"Objection!" Phoenix shouted over the murmurs from the gallery. "This is all conjecture - you'll have to provide some evidence before the court can take this supposition seriously, Payne!"

"Evidence?" Payne shrugged. "You know as well as I that there's no clear evidence in this case, as that was the crux of your argument during Bell's trial. The prosecution intends to prove Mr. Gavin's guilt by connecting the dots, so to speak, as set forth by multiple witnesses. Well, Mr. Gavin?" he asked. "What would you say to this line of reasoning?"

Klavier was leaning forward slightly on the railing, his expression blank. Phoenix had his suspicions that it wouldn't have been quite so blank if the sunglasses were off. He was right - after a moment, Klavier leaned on the witness stand more heavily, as if the railing was all that was keeping him upright. "You'll e-excuse me..." he murmured. "I'm not... I'm having a bit of trouble keeping my thoughts together..."

"That's just fine," Payne said with satisfaction. "I have no further questions for the defendant." Klavier's head drooped a little lower.

"Does the defense have anything to ask?" the judge asked. "If so, please make it quick - the defendant doesn't look like he can take much more of this."

No, he really didn't. "I don't, Your Honor," Phoenix replied. "As I stated a moment ago, the prosecution has come up with an outlandish explanation of the events surrounding the accidental overdose of Apollo Justice. There is nothing but Payne's overactive imagination to support this theory."

"Some have said the same of your arguments, Mr. Wright, if I remember correctly," the judge observed. "It is our duty, as agents of justice - both the general sense of 'justice' and the victim - to see that we examine all possibilities thoroughly." He banged his gavel. "Mr. Gavin, please sit down - before you fall over."

Phoenix reached out as Klavier stumbled back towards the bench, offering him an arm and helping him to sit down. "Are you all right?" he murmured. "Should we ask for a recess?"

Klavier shook his head vaguely. "I'm sorry..." he muttered through clenched teeth. "My thoughts keep flying from my head before I can catch hold of them..."

"It's all right," Phoenix assured him. "You did better than I expected, actually. That speech about who was truly at fault for Kristoph and Crescend was brilliant."

"...Speech?" Klavier clutched his head. "I don't remember... oh, wait. I do - I'd begun composing that as soon as I heard that he was taking the 'revenge' angle - I knew what he must be talking about. It would have been the first point I made. Repeated the response over and over in my head," he mumbled, "so that I wouldn't lose it. ...It took so much focus, I don't think I have any left."

That wasn't good. Why, oh why, Phoenix wondered, did both the judge and Payne have to have a sudden bout of competance on the same day?


	9. Chapter 9

The silence of the hospital room was broken today by not only Lamiroir's CD, left on at a low volume, but the bright clinking of metal. Occasionally, more of a metallic crash as the interlocking rings - an unfamiliar configuration, a gift from Uncle Edgey - fell to the tile floor. "Oops... sorry," Trucy murmured, leaning over in her chair to pick them up again. "I thought I had it that time. I guess... I'm having a little trouble concentrating."

She made herself smile up at Apollo, despite the fact he wasn't responding, he wasn't moving. "You know..." she added conspiratorially, "Uncle Edgey brought us chocolates, too. Swiss chocolate - really from Switzerland. I bet you've never had chocolate from Switzerland before, right? So you'd better hurry up and get better, before Daddy eats the whole box. He seriously ate like half of it yesterday. And then he turned me down when I offered to make dinner. Hee... You see what happens without the two of us around to take care of him?"

Still nothing. Not that this was a new development, but Trucy had been so excited when he spoke the day before, and opened his eyes the day before that. Never mind that the doctors had cautioned her not to expect too much - it may have been progress, but it didn't mean his recovery was imminent. Sometimes people lingered in a state like this for weeks, or years, or until they were removed from life support... But this was Apollo, Trucy had thought, determined. He wouldn't keep them waiting that long - he just wasn't that type of person.

Trucy sighed a little, and pulled the cell phone from her pocket, glancing at the display. "After eleven... Mr. Gavin's trial's started. I wonder if he and Daddy are doing okay. ...I could have gone with them," she admitted, putting the phone back, "but Daddy said he'd be all right. I know he's done this before without me around, but still. Sometimes he's kind of hopeless. He said he'd call if anything big happened, though. Whether good or bad, he'd keep me posted... and then I could keep you posted. So I'd be useful if I stayed here too." She bit her lip. "Except I'm pretty sure he said that just so I wouldn't feel bad about not wanting to go. I... I'm not as mad as I _was_, since Daddy said he's sure he didn't mean to do this to you, I think now I'm mostly just disappointed... but I'm still a little mad at Mr. Gavin. I don't know what I'd do if I had to sit there with him."

"...can't stay mad at him... I try, but then he starts talking in German about how he wants to swallow me whole... gets down on his knees..."

Trucy wrinkled her nose. ...It wasn't until a moment later that she realized that even if she didn't care to think about her brother having sex - even if it was with Mr. Gavin, who (regardless of what she thought of his character at the moment) was indisputably really hot - she should have been _surprised_ by the mumbled words instead of grossed out. "Polly!" she gasped, looking up to the head of the bed again. Apollo's eyes were open - not looking at her, not really looking at anything, but open. And staying open. And he'd said a whole sentence - a _couple_ of whole sentences, even if they were kind of embarrassing. The rings fell to the floor with a clatter once more. "Polly!" she exclaimed again, getting up out of the chair to bend over him. "You're awake?"

There was a long pause, but his eyes flickered over to her face, blinking and trying to focus. "...I don't know," he muttered. "I'm..."

A direct response to her question! Trucy was thrilled. "You're what?"

Apollo frowned a little, reached up gingerly to rub his head. Trucy was about to ask him if his head hurt, when he spoke again. "What's with my hair?"

Trucy laughed aloud. "You've been asleep for more than a week, Polly! It's no wonder you have a bad case of bedhead. Hey - can you say my name? Do you know who I am?"

"You're my little sister, Trucy." He looked thoroughly confused. "Where's Mom?"

Okay, so he was a little disoriented - that was to be expected. "She disappeared when we were kids," Trucy reminded him, taking his hand. "You were adopted... My old Daddy raised me for awhile, and then he disappeared too, and the two of us have been living with my new Daddy."

This left Apollo even more confused. "...But I heard her... noise. Talk. ...Singing," he settled on finally. "That's the word."

"Oh, that's just the CD Mr. Gavin brought you, from Lamiroir," Trucy explained. "Remember her? There's a song on there that made me think of Mommy too."

Apollo shook his head slowly. "No... it was Mom singing. I'm sure of it."

Trucy shook her head and gave him a little smile. "You were dreaming." But now he was awake, and he was conversing (if strangely - he'd _never_ have said anything like that first admission in front of her under normal circumstances).

"...I'm tired." He frowned more deeply, as if he were trying to concentrate. "Was I asleep?"

"Boy, were you ever." Trucy realized she had something she had to do other than just stand there and talk to him. "Hey, uh, don't go back to sleep right away, okay? I'll be right back."

He didn't reply, but still looked like he was trying to concentrate. Good enough for Trucy, and she dashed away from his bedside to the door, opening it and waving to the nurse on duty in the station down the hall. "Hey, _hey!_" she called excitedly. "He's awake, he's awake!" That wasn't much information, and maybe she was a little loud about it, but if Apollo fell asleep again while she was letting them know, Trucy thought as she ran back to his bed, she wouldn't be able to stand it.

"It _was_ Mom," Apollo insisted, before she could say anything. "And Klavier. He was singing with her." He started to sit up, looking around. "Where is he? Where am _I_?"

"He's at the courthouse, you're in the hospital," Trucy told him, and thinking about that dampened her good mood slightly. "Apollo... do you know what he did?"

"Well... I bet he _won_, if I'm not there."

"Er, today's trial's a little different." Was it up to _her_ to explain this to him?

Before she'd managed to find a way to begin that explanation, a handful of doctors and nurses, rallied by her announcement, had rushed into the room to check Apollo over. The necessity of an explanation postponed for the moment as they began asking him questions, Trucy's grin crept back onto her face, and she stepped out of the room for a moment to make a phone call.

* * *

Klavier was finding that as the trial went on, it was easier to deal with if he concentrated on listening to what was being said rather than just letting the noise go on about him. When he could tell that the words weren't being spoken to him personally, they seemed less a targetted attack on his poor head. Not that having it caught in the crossfire was much fun.

As far as he could tell, with his reduced ability to follow the proceedings, no one was getting anywhere. A witness for the prosecution would come to the stand, testify that he was indeed very good at getting the reaction out of people that he desired, and Phoenix would wind up forcing them to agree that he never seemed to desire anything harmful. A witness for the defense would come to the stand, testify that he was a good person and would never wish harm on anyone, and Payne would cause them to acknowledge that Klavier could be very persuasive, possibly to the point of manipulation. Phoenix had even called Klavier's counselor, as he'd intended, and after her testimony stating that in her opinion he was very distraught at the moment, Payne had brought up just how much fun Docidone withdrawal was - and wasn't that a possible explanation for Klavier's current misery as well?

Still, Payne wasn't making any clear progress. It was just that Phoenix couldn't completely disprove his theory either. The whole thing was growing so pointless and predictable, in fact, that at one point Phoenix even quietly took a phone call while a witness was speaking. Rather than being annoyed or disappointed, Klavier kind of wished someone would call him and provide a distraction as well. Besides, after he hung up, Phoenix seemed a bit more fired up.

Finally, after the Gavinners' drummer had testified and been dismissed, the judge's gavel sounded, heralding his agreement with Klavier. "I must say," the judge declared, "that this has dragged on for some time now - well past an appropriate lunch hour, my stomach informs me - with no significant changes in either side's argument, without any new information or evidence. Although neither the defense nor the prosecution has proven its point conclusively, I don't see much point in continuing. The decision must be made by the men and women of the jury, based on their own observations and feelings about what has been said in this courtroom - yes, Mr. Payne, including the detail that Mr. Gavin is talented when it comes to evoking emotions," he added, as Payne opened his mouth. "I believe we have had that point drilled into our heads by now." He then looked to the defense. "...Mr. Wright?" Klavier glanced over just in time to see Phoenix look up, guiltily. "If the defense has an objection, perhaps you should voice this to the court, rather than your phone."

"I'm sorry, Your Honor," Phoenix said quickly, setting the phone down. "I have a request - may we call just one more witness? I believe there is a person related to this case who will give us a fresh perspective on the character of Mr. Gavin, as well as the events of that night."

"Why not?" the judge sighed wearily. "We've been here so long already, I suppose we might as well hear one more. Go ahead - assuming you mean to call this person _to the stand_," he clarified, "and not by telephone."

"Actually, this person is not yet present," Phoenix admitted. "If we could take a thirty minute recess-"

"A significant amount of time," the judge grumbled, "yet not enough to eat our overdue lunches. I'll allow fifteen minutes."

"...Fifteen minutes," Phoenix agreed. Klavier was close enough to see his expression darken, his eyes narrow.

"Do you have any objections, Mr. Payne?" the judge inquired, turning to the prosecution.

Payne shook his head, looking quite smug. "I will dismantle this witness as I did those previous. I don't mind at all."

"Very well." The judge banged his gavel. "The court will reconvene in fifteen minutes. This mystery witness had better be worth it."

Klavier turned to Phoenix, about to ask who it was, but Phoenix was already holding the phone to his ear again. "Yeah, sorry about that. We're running out of time, though - I managed to buy you fifteen minutes. ...I know, it was the best I could do. Nothing's been accomplished in the last two hours, except possibly making the jury fall asleep from boredom." There was a long pause while the other person spoke. "I figured. ...Let's just give it a shot, okay? Even if it doesn't work, I doubt the jury's going to decide on a unanimous guilty verdict _today_." Another pause. "Sure thing - we'll be waiting. Thanks."

"Your mystery witness?" Klavier inquired as Phoenix hung up.

"Not exactly."

It sure had sounded that way to Klavier. "So who are you intending to call to the stand?"

Phoenix slipped the phone into his pocket, then looked up at Klavier with a confident smile. "It's just as you and the judge said - the witness is a mystery."

"...I see." Klavier was sure that if he could concentrate just a little bit better, he'd be able to solve the mystery. Unfortunately, he couldn't concentrate at all. "I apologize for not being any help," he added with a sigh.

"It's all right - I have it under control now. And fifteen minutes is more time than the judge seems to think," Phoenix added thoughtfully. "Want a bite to eat? Nothing amazing, in that amount of time, but we could get something from the vending machines in the lobby..."

"Now that you mention it, ja - I could eat something," Klavier replied. Since he couldn't help with the big things, he might as well tackle the simpler questions. "I haven't really eaten in a few days... Some nutrition might help me to collect my thoughts."

"You do realize I mentioned the vending machines, right?" Phoenix teased. "Anyway, my treat. ...With your superstar lifestyle, a vending machine lunch is probably the only meal I could afford to treat you to anyway."

Klavier grinned a little, and let himself be led off towards the lobby, putting the matter of the mysterious witness out of his mind in favor of things that were easier to grasp. Despite all his brother had done to discredit the man, he trusted Phoenix Wright. Whatever he was up to, it would have to work.

* * *

Phoenix was unfailingly relaxed during the recess, or at least it seemed that way to Klavier; Klavier had to admit, though, that it may have some basis in comparison, considering how jittery he felt. He managed to eat half a bag of vending machine candy, but handed the rest over to Phoenix, who munched away on it casually as he brushed off Edgeworth's queries regarding what he had up his sleeve.

Miles Edgeworth - Klavier found it a little awkward to be meeting him, seeing as he'd been something of a legend. Less so now, thanks to Klavier having beaten him out in the 'youngest practicing prosecutor in the district' department some years back, and Edgeworth's reputation was a fierce one. Far from what he'd been expecting from the man who had been called the 'demon prosecutor', he seemed mild enough, and seemed to hold no grudge, but Phoenix noted that he was like a completely different person in court.

They socialized a bit, Phoenix and Edgeworth teased each other, and Klavier was a little envious of how comfortable they seemed - until the bailiff came to tell them that the recess was over. At once the smile left Phoenix's face, and he pulled out his cell phone, staring at it in disbelief. "...It can't be time yet."

"It is," Edgeworth confirmed, looking at his watch. "And your witness hasn't arrived."

Phoenix shook his head. "I was afraid of this... I thought it would take longer. That's why I asked for half an hour."

"I'll go and see if I can help." Edgeworth's demeanor abruptly changed, becoming hard and determined, and _then_ Klavier could almost imagine him as the 'demon prosecutor'. "You stall for time." A smirk turned up the corner of Edgeworth's mouth. "You've always been good at wasting the court's time."

"Very funny," Phoenix muttered, and then hesitated. "Wait. You _do_ know who we're waiting for, right?"

"_Please,_ Wright," Edgeworth assured him. "It wasn't too difficult to figure out. Especially when she also has my cell phone number. Granted," he added, "I think you're mad for trying it so soon. There are too many things that could go wrong."

"Not in such a way that it would be a disaster for us. Besides." Phoenix shrugged. "Stubborn."

Edgeworth nodded knowingly. "I hope you're right."

Klavier wished he could manage to figure it out too - this seemed like it _should_ be obvious, if he could just stop hurting long enough to put his thoughts in order.

"All right," Phoenix said, turning to him as Edgeworth left. "So we have a little more work to do. But even if this doesn't pan out, we can try again tomorrow."

Unless there was a unanimous verdict before the day was through. "I hope you're right."

"I'm _always_ Wright."

It took a moment for Klavier to get it, and he groaned, putting a hand to his temple as they entered the courtroom. "Jokes that terrible aren't going to stop my head from exploding."

They weren't actually the last ones back to the courtroom, but almost - a few straggling observers were still seating themselves as Phoenix and Klavier stepped to the bench. Phoenix gave Klavier a sideways look, abruptly serious. "You can sit if you'd like," he offered. "Edgeworth's right - I'm pretty good at stalling. And I'm sure there won't be a final verdict anyway, even if my witness doesn't make it."

Klavier laughed quietly. "Do I look that bad?"

"Not unless I look close." Phoenix glanced at him again. "...Actually... let me see how you look without the sunglasses."

Though a little reluctant (he'd seen himself in the mirror that morning), Klavier lowered his sunglasses. Phoenix looked him over, then nodded to himself. "Let's leave them off for now, all right?"

"...Ja." If Phoenix was going to play the pity card, Klavier supposed he wanted him to look pitiful. Not that Klavier liked looking pitiful. But at least if it was going to be made known that he _felt_ terrible, he had no reason to try to stand, and so he sat after all, watching Phoenix sort through transcripts.

The judge's gavel pounded, resuming the proceedings. "Well, Mr. Wright?" the judge inquired. "Where is your mysterious witness?"

"I believe that was 'mystery witness', Your Honor, not 'mysterious witness'," Phoenix replied.

"Regardless, is this person ready to testify?"

"And you know, I wouldn't say they're particularly mysterious," Phoenix mused, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "Usually quite straightforward, in fact."

The judge frowned. "Well then, if the defense is so intent on picking on my choice of wording in a childish fashion... Is this _quite straightforward_ witness present?"

"Any moment now, Your Honor."

"You were allowed fifteen minutes to produce this witness," the judge reminded him sternly. "Just how much longer do you intend to keep us all waiting?"

Phoenix held up his hands in a helpless shrug. "Perhaps they were caught in traffic... but you could be right," he admitted. "It's not my intention to waste the court's time."

_Yes it is_, Klavier thought to himself with mild amusement.

"If the court is averse to waiting any longer," Phoenix suggested, "then I wonder if the prosecution is ready to give a final statement? He looks... eager." He did, Klavier observed, looking across the room to Payne. The man was grinning, almost maniacally.

"I hardly think that's necessary," the judge stated, "considering that we've spent the entire day so far listening to him make the same inconclusive point over and over."

"Begging your pardon, Your Honor," Payne put in, "but there is one last, decisive piece of evidence that I believe should be seen by the jury before they make their decisions."

"Evidence?" The judge raised an eyebrow curiously as the onlookers murmured. "_That_ would certainly be something new for this trial. As would anything that could be called 'decisive'. By all means."

"...What other evidence could he have?" Klavier whispered to Phoenix, baffled. "There is none, besides my confession."

"The fact that you put something in Apollo's drink isn't what's being debated now, though," Phoenix murmured back. "He's trying to prove that you did it with the intent to harm Apollo."

"No one can prove intent in a case like this..."

"There are ways," Phoenix acknowledged. "But since it's not the truth, Payne won't be able to prove _your_ intent."

Phoenix was right, Klavier realized, as the bailiff wheeled in a cart with a television and VCR. "What we are about to see," Payne announced, "is the defendant talking quite cheerfully about how simple the crime was."

"Was!?" Klavier gasped.

Phoenix looked at him sharply. "Is that possible?"

"Nein! That is... I don't think so, I didn't speak with anyone about it until after I'd already confessed..." Klavier's head throbbed, and he clutched at it. "A-at least... I don't think I did." Was it possible he just didn't remember?

"Ohhh." Understanding softened Phoenix's expression. "Come to think of it, I'm willing to bet... Ha. That's what I thought," he finished as the tape began to play.

Payne fast-forwarded through footage of the detention center's visitation room, where Klavier and Phoenix were talking through the glass, and then let it play, just in time to hear Klavier casually say "You know, it's funny how close I came to getting away with it."

The tape was paused, and when the judge looked to the defense bench, Phoenix had his head buried in his hands. "Do you have anything to say about this footage, Mr. Wright?"

"It seems that there is one battle which I simply cannot win against Prosecutor Payne," Phoenix acknowledged with a sigh, as Payne cackled with glee. "And that battle is..." He straightened, smirking at Payne. "...Over who's better at wasting the court's time. In that, Payne reigns undefeated."

"What?" Payne protested. "But-"

"Do you even know when that video was recorded?" Phoenix asked. "This video, which clearly shows my client stating that he _nearly_ got away with it, is from the day he confessed, allowing a wrongfully accused man to go free rather than be jailed in his place. "If you would recall Bell's trial, and the time at which he was declared not guilty due to this confession - and then compare that time to the timestamp in the upper left hand corner of this video."

"Why, you're right!" The judge exclaimed. "This is over an hour after the confession!"

"Besides, why else would Mr. Gavin be on the far side of the glass?" Phoenix further noted. "This could only have been recorded after his confession and subsequent arrest. Here he is stating that he _could_ easily have kept his secret, letting Bell be charged for a nasty prank on him that unwittingly struck Mr. Justice instead - but he chose not to, knowing that he would be imprisoned once he implicated himself! I appreciate the lengths you've gone to, Payne," he added, "to prove my client's strength of character for me."

"But...!" Payne sputtered helplessly. "_Character_, Wright? He's _smiling_ about his crime in this video!"

"If you let the tape play just a little further," Phoenix stated, "you will hear Mr. Gavin admit that he'd taken five capsules of Docidone already that day - over twice the amount he'd taken the night when his lapse of judgment led to him placing the drug in Mr. Justice's drink - and that he was feeling no fear. Would that be enough explanation for you? Or must we call Detective Skye to testify about the drug test Mr. Gavin took that afternoon, and the results correlating precisely to what he told us? Or perhaps we could call my client's counselor again to refresh your memory about the euphoric effects of Docidone in high dosage?"

"That won't be necessary," the judge stated, quick and firm. "Mr. Payne - is this utterly useless video all the evidence you have to present?"

"Well, er, yes it is." Payne pounded his fist on the bench in frustration. "But one more thing which the court should take into consideration - the matter of Mr. Gavin's upbringing! You may have all heard of his older brother, Kristoph Gavin, a former defense attorney who is currently on death row, awaiting execution for multiple murders. The only reason he has not been executed, in fact, is because there are further incidents which he may have been involved in."

"Objection!" Phoenix exclaimed, and Klavier noted with gratitude that this time, he really sounded angry. "Klavier Gavin was unaware of his brother's crimes - and when they became known, he helped to bring Kristoph to justice, just as he stated earlier."

"That was not my point," Payne informed him.

"Wasn't it?" the judge asked curiously. "Then... overruled. Go on."

"What I'm getting at, Wright," Payne continued, "is that these two young men grew up together, in the same household. In fact, Mr. Gavin, being several years younger, was largely raised by his older brother - a proven sociopath who considered even murder to be acceptable if someone inconvenienced him. And never was it so simple as merely murder - his killings were plotted out in such a way as to implicate others who he felt posed a threat to him. In many cases, people who called him a friend - even you, Wright - and would have vouched for his kindness and generosity. ...Are we seeing a pattern here?"

"Only your pattern of growing more and more desperate as your case unravels," Phoenix replied with a frown.

"It's quite simple," Payne insisted. "Klavier Gavin grew up in an environment where this sort of deception would have been considered 'normal' - this cycle of people being used when it was convenient, and discarded when it was not, masterminded by an accomplished manipulator. Is it so difficult to grasp how it must have affected him? Seeing as his other career depended on the manipulation of young minds, why would he _not_ have also followed in his brother's footsteps when it came to the pattern of befriending colleagues, only to stab them in the back?"

"Objection!"

The assembly, as one, whipped their heads around to look - except for Klavier, who just smiled. ...Then he realized why he was smiling, and stopped, frozen in his shock. That wasn't Phoenix, but...

That same voice was clearing its throat, and groaned slightly. "You need to take it easy," another voice chastised him, panting tiredly. "Pace yourself, okay?"

"Look who's talking about pacing themselves," the first voice muttered. "You're practically falling over. And besides, the second we got here, instinct took over. I can't just turn it off."

Klavier was afraid to look, even though he _knew_ that he knew that voice, hoarse as it was, and the other was rather familiar by now too. He did, however, manage to turn and look at Phoenix, who was now grinning. "Thanks for stalling the trial for me, Payne - it seems my witness has arrived after all."

"You can't be serious!" Payne shrieked, then managed to pull himself together a little. "...The victim, testifying for the defense?! Why would he defend his attacker?"

"He isn't testifying specifically for the defense," Phoenix stated. "He'll be testifying on his own behalf."

"I suppose we can't stop the _victim_ from telling his side of the story," the judge acknowledged.

"No, we really can't," Phoenix agreed. "He was adamant when my daughter explained what was going on - and you just _try_ shutting Apollo up when he really wants to say something."

"Well then... Mr. Justice?"

Klavier finally made himself look. Trucy was bent over just inside the entrance to the courtroom, trying to catch her breath - and a rumpled, exhausted-looking Apollo was staring at him from the wheelchair she was holding onto for balance. His expression was unreadable, but even so, Klavier couldn't stop himself from smiling in relief. "...Mein Gott, Apollo... There are _no words_..."

Apollo just stared back at him for a little longer, unsmiling, then turned to the judge. "I want to testify," he confirmed. "As Mr. Wright said, not for the defense or the prosecution, but with my honest thoughts on the matter."

"Very well." The judge nodded. "Please take the stand, Mr. Justice. ...Ms. Wright too, I suppose," he added.


	10. Chapter 10

"I must admit," said the judge, as Trucy pushed the wheelchair to the witness stand, "this comes as quite a surprise. The last we had heard, you were unconscious in the hospital."

"I was," Apollo confirmed. "I only woke up... uh..." He looked up to Trucy, who seemed to have caught her breath at last. "When was it?"

"A couple hours ago," she said with a fond smile, which she turned to the court. "He was pretty out of it for awhile, though - he's only been _really_ awake for about an hour."

"I'm not sure I could say that I'm 'really awake'," Apollo muttered. "Everything's still kind of fuzzy, and my vocabulary sort of comes and goes."

"Are you certain that you're well enough to testify?" the judge inquired.

"No, but I _want_ to," Apollo stated. "Trucy can help me if I'm having problems remembering the right words - is that all right?"

"Well, we'll give it a try, and see how much of it you're managing on your own," the judge agreed. "Most of us present know you, and many others must have figured it out by now in context, but for the record - please state your name and occupation."

"My name is Apollo Justice," he replied. "I'm a... uh..." He scratched his head sheepishly. "Sorry. Trucy?"

"Defense attorney?" she offered.

"Yeah - I'm a defense attorney. And this is Trucy Wright, my sister. She's a.... she... does things. Tricks. How is it I can remember the word 'vocabulary'," Apollo grumbled, "and not that one?"

Klavier couldn't stop staring at him. Aside from the disorientation and the droopiness of his trademark antennae, Apollo seemed so normal. So _alive_. "Why didn't you tell me?" he whispered to Phoenix.

"The same reason I asked you to remove your sunglasses," Phoenix whispered back. "I wanted the court to see your honest, unrehearsed reaction to seeing him awake."

Klavier blinked. "...Maybe I shouldn't try to hold back these tears then, ja?"

"Just be yourself," Phoenix told him. "I think we can count on the same from Apollo - I've seen how he gets when he's not feeling well - and it seems to me that if everyone's honest, we'll get a fair verdict."

"As far as I'm concerned," Klavier murmured, "any verdict Apollo thinks is fair is a fair verdict."

Phoenix reached back for a moment to squeeze his shoulder, giving him a smile. "I agree."

"As we all know," the judge continued, "you are the victim in the case we're currently trying. Ten days ago, you were at a nightclub with the defendant, Mr. Gavin, when you collapsed and fell into a coma, as the result of an adverse reaction to a drug which was placed in your drink."

"That's what Trucy told me. I don't actually have any memory of that night."

"Then we can assume that you won't be testifying about that night?"

"No, Your Honor - I won't." Apollo's eyes were fixed on the judge. Klavier wished he would look _his_ way. ...Why wouldn't Apollo look at him?

"Perhaps," Payne suggested, "he might wish to testify about the suffering he has endured due to Mr. Gavin's cruel actions?"

Apollo looked away from the judge to aim a glare at Payne. "Will you shut up?"

Klavier nearly laughed at the mortified expression on Payne's face. Like Phoenix, he'd been around Apollo when he wasn't feeling well, and he'd _never_ get away with acting like that if he were defending. As merely a witness, the rules of courtroom decorum were somewhat lighter.

"Oh yeah," Apollo added, pressing a finger to his forehead in a gesture of concentration that was soothingly familiar to Klavier. "I had an objection. To what he was saying about Klavier. _That's_ what I was going to testify about."

"Please, go ahead," the judge invited him.

"Okay. Uh... where was I." Apollo frowned, sitting up straighter as he gathered his thoughts. "The uh... the one that's trying to get a guilty verdict... he was talking about Klavier following in his brother's footsteps - manipulating people, befriending them only to backstab them later. That's one of the dumbest things I've ever heard."

"Er..." The judge didn't seem to know what to make of an objection on the grounds of a statement being 'dumb'. "Could you explain to us why you believe the prosecution's statement to be dumb?"

"It's like this," Apollo stated. "As far as the backstabbing goes, I'd like to see you find one person who would ever say Klavier's stabbed them in the back."

"Uh, what about Daryan?" Trucy murmured.

"Whose side are you on?" Apollo asked her, giving her an incredulous look. "Convicted murderers don't count - exposing their crimes and bringing them to justice isn't backstabbing. And he couldn't manipulate anyone."

"You seem rather confident about this," the judge observed.

"I am. Sure, Klavier's self-absorbed and vain. He pretty much does what he wants and gets all butthurt when someone doesn't think everything he does is awesome - a total prima donna. He can be petty, and pushy, and he just _won't let it go_ if you disagree with him - he'll keep on pressing until you give in. That's how I wound up at the club with him that night. I hate clubbing."

"...And this goes against Payne's accusations of manipulative behavior _how_?" asked the judge.

"The thing is," Apollo continued, "despite all of that? Klavier's _terrible_ at manipulating people. He tries, yeah, but he _sucks_."

This time, Klavier really did start laughing, dropping his head into his hands, his shoulders shaking. Leave it to his Herr Forehead to be painfully blunt.

"I mean, when he's trying to get you to see things his way, he's way too obvious about it. He'll get all super-polite, maybe lower his voice and make it all husky, maybe start talking in German, flash you a pretty smile..." Apollo rolled his eyes. "It works on his teenage fangirls, but anyone with half a brain can see through it."

The courtroom was silent, aside from Klavier's half-stifled laughter. "If I might point something out?" Payne ventured. "You claim that Mr. Gavin is hopeless when it comes to coersion - but just a moment ago, you said that he'd coerced you into going to that club."

"Yeah, I did," Apollo replied. "I wouldn't say it was coersion or manipulation, though. Even though he's terrible at being underhanded, he usually gets what he wants anyway. Not because he tricks people into it, or forces it on them, but because at heart, he's a _good person_. Deep down, below the stupid flashy rock idol image, he has more depth than you'd expect. He has beliefs, values, convictions. Trucy told me he confessed to putting that stuff in my drink so that another person, someone who had even been talking shit about him, wouldn't go to jail for it. _That's_ the kind of man he is."

Klavier had stopped believing that over the last few days. Hearing Apollo say such things of him... Klavier didn't know whether he wanted to thank him, or object.

"Knowing that," Apollo finished, "why _wouldn't_ I want to make him happy now and then by doing something I don't really want to do? I caved, yes, but I _chose_ to cave. It wasn't a battle I felt I needed to win."

"However," the judge pointed out, "he _did_, unbeknownst to you, slip an illicit substance into your drink. Does this change your opinion of Mr. Gavin's character?"

"...I would have said that it was unlike the person I knew," Apollo said thoughtfully. "Except that... Like I said, I don't remember that particular night at all. But I'd been to clubs with him before a couple of times, and I'd noticed he was acting really weird. Kind of, uh, what's the word...? He was... well, _giddy_ isn't the word I want, but it's close. Trucy said he'd taken some of the same drug he'd given me - and looking back, thinking about how he'd been acting, it should have been obvious to me he'd been on something for awhile. I mean, sometimes we'd get home and he'd take off the shades, and his pupils would be all dilated... I figured it was something to do with his wearing sunglasses at night at a dimly lit club. If I'd known he was under the influence of something... I wouldn't have put it past him. He always acted stupid when we were clubbing anyway. If I knew what was causing it, I would have made him quit a long time ago if he ever wanted to see me again." Finally, he looked over at Klavier again. "...I liked him better without the drugs. Even before _this_ happened."

It wasn't Klavier's turn to speak, he knew that, but he couldn't stand it. Apollo looked so disappointed with him. "I'm sorry, schatzi," he said earnestly. "So, so incredibly sorry."

"For what you did to me?" Apollo asked, his expression unchanged. "Or for doing that stuff to yourself?"

"For making you look at me like that, when I know I deserve it..." Klavier rested his head in one hand. "...So I suppose both."

Perhaps realizing that they were witnessing something that should have been a private moment, the court was silent as Apollo simply fixed his eyes on Klavier. "...We have a lot to talk about."

"...Ja." This all hurt so badly, a physical ache in his chest - yet a part of him felt like singing, simply because they were _talking_.

"I don't like who you were when you were on drugs," Apollo said flatly. "He was a waste of my time. But if we can find the person you were _before_ the drugs, he might be worth my time."

"I'm not so sure," Klavier admitted. "But he would _try_ to be worth your time."

"That's why I think he'd be worth my time." Apollo hesitated, then gave Klavier a little smile.

Klavier couldn't return it - he was having too much trouble trying to hold himself together. "Verdammt..." he mumbled, taking a deep breath. "This is just... I mean... _Apollo_." He was shaking again, and this time it was probably visible.

"We'll talk about all of this," Apollo assured him. "Promise."

Klavier sat there, shaking, holding Apollo's firm gaze in silence. Finally, the judge spoke up. "I apologize for interrupting this moment," he said, "but we _are_ holding a trial. Mr. Justice - as the victim, your measure of the wrong that was done to you holds more weight than any other witness. In your personal opinion, what do you feel the verdict in this case should be?"

Apollo looked away from Klavier to the judge - he looked like he'd forgotten anyone else was there besides the two of them. "Oh, uh... verdict? Well... he did it, obviously. He confessed and everything. And I can't say I'm not mad at him for doing such a stupid thing, or that he doesn't deserve some punishment. But just look at him." He gestured in Klavier's direction. "He's already miserable. Compare _that_ to any of his publicity shots - he'd never go anywhere looking like that if he wasn't suffering." Klavier fought the urge to cover his face - he didn't much care for that observation.

"...I don't even know what he's being charged with," Apollo admitted. "I only know what he did. And since he did it to me, I think his punishment should be up to me."

"By which you mean...?" the judge prompted. "What do you think his punishment should be?"

"Beyond a few days in jail, being forced into painful withdrawal, and a week and a half of being afraid I was going to die because he made a stupid mistake? I don't know yet," Apollo finished with a shrug. "I'll think of something eventually. When I do, I'll make sure he pays up."

There were a few scattered laughs throughout the courtroom. One of them was from Klavier, in relief. "...Schatzi..." He wasn't quite sure what he wanted to say, but...

Actually, Klavier didn't want to say anything, and Apollo must have seen it in his eyes, because he glanced up at Trucy. "Could you...?"

She nodded, and smiled brighter than Klavier had seen her smile since all of this began. "Of course, big brother!" she agreed, pushing the wheelchair from the witness stand, rolling it towards the defense bench.

It seemed a little awkward, with Trucy right there and Phoenix next to him, but Klavier got to his feet shakily as Apollo came close, reaching out to take his hand. ...The hell with it, he decided, and just knelt down in front of the wheelchair, sliding his arms around Apollo's waist and burying his head in the blankets over his lap. Apollo bent forward, embracing his shoulders loosely - and Klavier not only forgot Trucy's presence, but didn't even hear the resulting applause that began slowly, and grew to fill the courtroom.

* * *

Klavier wasn't too clear on the last few minutes of the trial. Afterwards, he didn't quite remember hearing the judge declare the verdict, or Payne's apparent reaction to it - which was too bad, Trucy told him later, because it was pretty funny. Dazed and overwhelmed and still a little bit jumbled from withdrawal, he didn't even really remember leaving the courtroom, but he must have.

In the defendant's lobby, he knelt down by Apollo's chair again, looking Apollo in the eye and gripping his hand. "You're really better? How are you feeling?"

"You look like you feel worse than I do," Apollo replied, with a little smirk, which turned into a grimace. "Throat's dry, though... too much talking." He glanced up at everyone. "Could somebody get me-"

"I'll do it," Klavier said quickly, getting to his feet again. "I owe you, ja? I'll be your _slave_ from here on out, if you're willing to have me back."

"His slave? Awesome!" Trucy said with a grin. "Apollo, can you make him clean my room?"

Apollo sighed. "I don't want a slave. ...I wouldn't mind a little extra attention, though, I guess..." he admitted, looking up to Klavier. "You _do_ owe me."

"Anything you want," Klavier assured him.

"For now? I just want you to stay the hell away from anything stronger than aspirin until you're well over all of this, then we'll figure out what else I might want." Apollo licked his lips. "Well, besides some water."

"Oh - right." Klavier headed for the water cooler, and before filling a cup, splashed a little water on his face. He felt hot and puffy. ...He was going to have to do something about this before he left the courthouse and was at the mercy of the cameras.

For now, though, he had more important matters to deal with, and at least the cold water had woken him up a little. "Here, fraulein," Klavier suggested, waving Trucy away as he returned, offering the cup to Apollo. "I thank you for all you've done, but I'll take over wheelchair duty now. I should be the one helping him."

"No way! Apollo's _my_ brother, _I_ get to push his wheelchair!"

"Nein - I insist!"

"You two are acting like it's a privilege," Apollo muttered.

Trucy blinked at him. "Isn't it?"

"Ah, family life." Amidst all the commotion, Phoenix was calm and quiet, looking thoughtful as he gazed toward the door. "...There's someone missing from this scene," he observed.

"Is there?" Klavier asked.

"Uncle Edgey," Trucy informed him. "Yeah, he's not back yet. That's kind of funny."

Apollo looked puzzled. "Wasn't he in Europe?"

"He flew back for the trial," Trucy reminded him. "Remember? You even talked to him at the hospital."

"I did?" Apollo scratched his head. "...I think I'd better just abandon trying to think logically for awhile - it's not working so well."

"Ja, just relax," Klavier assured him. "You've done enough logical thinking for one day."

"I prefer to think there's not a limit on that sort of thing - especially not a _half hour_ limit."

"Okay, enough logical thinking for having been in a coma for days just a couple hours ago," Trucy suggested.

"...Point taken, I guess."

It was then that Edgeworth returned, looking slightly frazzled. "I take it the trial's ended?" he inquired, smoothing his hair quickly as he approached the four of them. "How did it go?"

Phoenix smiled. "Was there ever any doubt?"

"Hmm..." Edgeworth smiled back, a little bit. "Seeing as Payne was clearly projecting in regards to Klavier's repeated losses to Apollo... you might want to watch your back, Phoenix."

"Very funny. And it's not like you haven't already got my back," Phoenix pointed out. "Speaking of, thanks for the help today. What was going on, anyway?"

"Apollo was still fairly weak, and having some trouble communicating," Edgeworth explained. "The doctors didn't want to let him leave the hospital just yet."

"Ah - so you convinced them."

Edgeworth averted his eyes. "...Not exactly."

Odd as it was, Klavier thought he looked slightly embarassed. "...What, then?"

"After Apollo convinced me that it was what he wanted, more than anything else, to come here and say his piece..." Edgeworth turned his head, clearing his throat. "I, er, distracted the head doctor."

"It was really obvious, she thought Uncle Edgey was cute," Trucy said, beaming. "So while she was talking to him, I got Apollo into this wheelchair, and-"

"...Wait." Klavier was floored. "You stole a wheelchair and snuck mein schatzi out of the hospital without a doctor's approval?"

"That's my girl!" Phoenix said proudly, resting his arm across her shoulders.

"Ran all the way here," Trucy affirmed with a nod.

"Kind of a bumpy ride, too," Apollo muttered. "My teeth are still rattling."

"...I can't say I wish you hadn't done that..." Klavier admitted. "But what if something had gone wrong? What if he _wasn't_ well enough to be out of bed?"

"I would've taken him back," Trucy protested, then paused. "...You know, I bet they've discovered it's Mr. Hat lying in his bed by now."

Apollo facepalmed. "You think?"

"You should probably be getting back," Klavier suggested. "You only just woke up - I don't want you overdoing it and ending up in a coma again."

"I feel okay," Apollo insisted. "Mostly. I could probably even walk if I tried. You're the one who looks half dead."

"Mr. Gavin's right," Trucy agreed, grabbing the handles of the wheelchair and turning it towards the door. "Apollo, you need your rest."

"Don't you think ten days sleep is enough?"

"Fraulein, didn't I say I would take care of the wheelchair?" Klavier asked, hurrying to keep step with her.

"But I want to! He's my brother!"

"But I'm the one responsible for him being in that chair, ja? Besides, he said it was all bumpy when you were pushing him."

"That's not my fault - it's the sidewalks around here!"

"Ow! Watch it, will you?" Apollo complained. "You just slammed my foot into the door."

"All the more reason I should steer, fraulein."

"Hey!" Ema protested, entering the lobby just in time to turn around and follow the three of them out. "You, fop! You can't leave - until the paperwork's finished, you're still in police custody!"

Phoenix looked over to Edgeworth with a little grin. "Aren't you glad we weren't as messed up as these kids when we were their age?"

"I, for one," said Edgeworth dryly, "was the very picture of mental stability in my twenties."

"...Okay..." Phoenix conceded. "But at least _one_ of us had his head on straight."

"Which one of us was that? The one who tried to run across a rickety burning bridge? The one who once _ate evidence_ in a fit of passion?"

"Fond reminiscence about the good old days is completely impossible with you around," Phoenix complained.


	11. Chapter 11

Although Klavier had been found not guilty of intentionally harming Apollo, the jury having agreed with Apollo that he could decide, there were other related matters that sent Klavier back to the courthouse in the following days. For one, he _had_ been in possession of a controlled substance which he was using recreationally; since he was not a habitual offender, he was sentenced to a brief probation period and mandatory enrollment in a rehabilitation program. It wasn't terribly necessary, given how many eyes were on him to make sure that he didn't slip up (not even counting the press, who would have no doubt enjoyed continuing the scandal; to their dismay, Klavier didn't agree), and he had no intention of doing so, but the counseling was appreciated.

For another, his behavior during Bell's trial - until the end, anyhow - could have been considered obstruction of justice. But then again, he had never actually _lied_ while in court, and he _had_ confessed in the end. The prosecutors' office decided that under the circumstances, this was highly unlikely to happen again, but they couldn't possibly let it slide either. Klavier was placed on three months unpaid leave, his return contingent on successfully finishing out his probation and the program, and further sentenced to a certain amount of community service.

Klavier didn't mind the community service at all - it got him out into the public eye, where he could get back to being his usual charming self (it was much easier as his dependence on Docidone ceased, making him feel less miserable) and rebuild his professional image while doing something to help others. And with three months off, he had plenty of time.

A month into it, he already had an idea about what to do with the next two months.

It was a warm summer day - not unbearable, but warm enough that Klavier didn't feel like doing much of anything besides lounging around on the couch at his family's manor, noodling around on one of his guitars. Apollo was at the far end, once again writing in his notebook, which was settled on top of Klavier's bare feet, which were in his lap. It was all so normal and comfortable that Klavier could almost forget anything had ever happened between them.

Except, of course, that he couldn't. He hoped he never would.

"You know," he mused, strumming a few chords idly, "I don't know if you remember, but while you were asleep, I promised that I would write you a song if you would just wake up. I've spent a lot of time thinking about it..."

Apollo raised an eyebrow, looking up from his notebook for a moment. "You came up with something?"

"Ja, did I ever. Inspiration's struck hard, with all this time off - I'm going to kick off my solo career by turning 'Love's Rehabilitation' into a full-length concept album, instead of just a single."

"...Wasn't _I_ supposed to be the one coming up with ways to punish _you_?" Apollo muttered, going back to his notebook.

Klavier grinned. "You _were_," he agreed. "But it's been a month, and I haven't heard anything about it."

Apollo shrugged. "I was waiting for you to get over the withdrawal."

"The worst of it was over even before the trial."

"And then you had another trial, and the stuff going on at the prosecutor's office."

"Over in a few more days, Forehead."

"And then we were busy moving." Apollo paused in his writing. "Trucy's really happy, you know. She's never lived in a house before. Much less a place like this."

"I'm glad I could do something nice for her. Besides, despite what Kristoph thought, the manor is too big for just one person. Or even two." Klavier picked out a little riff, his mind drifting. "...Think she's forgiven me yet?"

"I think she forgave you as soon as she knew I was safe," Apollo replied. "If not then, then she forgave you when she knew that I intended to try to make this work out, instead of just writing you off. It's really our business, after all."

"You're _not_ conducting business, though," Klavier observed. "You still haven't come up with any punishment for me."

"I _did_ make good on my threat to make you walk funny for awhile when I was feeling up to it," Apollo reminded him with a smirk.

"...That wasn't exactly punishment, ja?"

He grinned back at Apollo, until Apollo's smirk softened. "Honestly... I don't know."

"Don't know what?"

"If I'll be able to come up with something." Apollo nibbled at the tip of his pen absently. "...What's the point of punishment, anyway?"

"You're asking a prosecutor," Klavier pointed out. "If anyone knows how important punishment is, it's a prosecutor."

"What _is_ the point, then?" Apollo asked, seriously. "Tell me, in general terms - why do we punish people who do things they shouldn't?"

"To start with, it's a deterrent. It keeps criminals from repeating their crimes, either by teaching them a lesson or keeping them behind bars, if necessary."

"And that's not necessary in your case," Apollo replied easily. "I already know you're not going to do it again."

"There's also an aspect of restitution in most sentences," Klavier added. "Usually monetary, but sometimes it comes in the form of service."

"You paid my hospital bills, including all the follow-up, and then said Phoenix could move into your family's manor if he wanted somewhere bigger than the office for the three of us. And ever since I've woken up, you've been taking care of everything I even _imply_ that I _might_ want."

"Ja, because I owe you. I nearly killed you," Klavier insisted. "The other reason punishment is important is so that the criminal will feel some of the victim's pain, rather than remaining unaffected."

"You're right," Apollo stated, finally setting his notebook aside on the coffee table. "And I saw how much pain you were in when I woke up. I can only imagine what it was like when no one was sure I would."

Klavier sat up properly, leaning the guitar against the end of the couch so he could rest his head in his hands. "You know... they told me in rehab that when you're coming out of a difficult addiction, there's a point you reach where you don't care about anything else in the world - you just want another fix. I hit rock bottom while I was still in jail, while you were still asleep. The days before the trial were the worst in my life... but as much as I wanted those pills, _that_ want wasn't the worst."

Klavier felt a hand rest on his back as Apollo scooted closer. "Yeah...?"

"What really got to me was wanting _you_. Despite how terrible I felt, I wouldn't have cared about any pills, if you'd just been there to hold me... Phoenix let me hold onto your notebook and your pillow, and that helped some, but..."

The hand moved to his shoulder as Apollo put an arm around him. "...You're not exactly motivating me to punish you further, you know. And if you're done listing off the benefits of punishment, you might notice that you've already been through every one of them."

"I _did_ almost kill you," Klavier repeated. "I never was in danger for my life - how is that fair?"

"Look." The hand on his shoulder tightened, and Apollo turned Klavier to face him with a serious look. "You don't like seeing me hurt, obviously. I don't like seeing you hurt either. So the more you suffer, the more I suffer with you. You _didn't_ kill me. I got better, and we moved on - or at least I did. If I tried to do something just to make you feel worse over it at this point, it would just be petty revenge, not 'fair'. And as for endangering your life - how could I do _that_? It's pretty obvious I don't want you to die."

"...Heh."

Apollo's eyes narrowed. "What?"

"I just remembered," Klavier said, averting his eyes slightly. "I _was_ in danger for my life... I thought about swallowing the rest of those pills before my confession - I was already high enough that I wasn't afraid to die. But I didn't do it, only because _you_ hadn't been allowed the choice of whether or not to overdose, and so my getting to choose life or death for myself wouldn't be fair."

"...Kind of stupid reasoning," Apollo muttered, "but I'm glad you didn't."

"Phoenix was too." Klavier looked up again, meeting Apollo's eyes. "And I wasn't so sure I'd made the right decision, but he told me that someday you'd tell me I had."

"He can be weird... but sometimes he's pretty smart." After a second, Apollo smiled and nudged him. "Hey... that night, weren't you telling _me_ that _I_ needed to lighten up and relax and stop worrying so much?"

"Heh... You remember now?" Klavier smiled a little too at the memory. "It seems like years ago."

"I remember a little, now that I've got that notebook back and can see what I was writing. I actually wished I _could_ relax. But you know, after all of this? All the things I was worried about seem smaller. I could have done without the coma," he added dryly, "but I _am_ more content with everything I have now."

"And I needed to get serious and deal with my issues instead of running from them, ja?" He shrugged, leaning his head against Apollo's. "Mission accomplished?"

"Just as long as neither of us go overboard," Apollo agreed, reaching up to brush Klavier's hair out of his own face.

"And I suppose I'll never get you to go clubbing with me again," Klavier sighed, "no matter how relaxed you might be."

Apollo made a face. "Yeah, I'm kind of soured on the club scene at this point. ...But you know," he added more thoughtfully, "if you went back, I really couldn't let you go by yourself."

"Why do you say that?"

"I've been reading through what I missed while I was unconscious," Apollo told him, his smirk slowly returning. "And now I'm a little concerned about what would happen if someone _did_ spike your drink. After all, Bell was right - you _are_ kind of a slut."

Klavier clutched a hand to his heart, wounded... and used the other to bop Apollo on the forehead. The resulting playful scuffle ended when the two of them managed to roll off the couch, and Apollo grinned down at Klavier pinned beneath him. "Only for you, schatzi," Klavier told him, somewhat belatedly, grinning back.

"Now that you mention it, I did threaten to make you walk funny for a _week_, didn't I?" Apollo observed. "You were only walking funny for about a day and a half."

"I like it when you get picky about the details," Klavier admitted, and glanced up at the clock for a moment. Phoenix and Trucy were over at the office - they probably had a couple of hours.

Caught up as they were in the moment, neither of them heard the keys in the lock, or anything at all until the door opened a few minutes later and Trucy came bouncing in. "Polly, are you home?" she called. "Good ne-_oh!_ Uh, uhm, sorry! Sorry!"

Red-faced, Apollo pushed himself up off Klavier and grabbed for his shirt, sitting up from behind the coffee table in a hurry. "Errrr..."

"Hey, you two." In sharp contrast to Trucy and Apollo, Phoenix greeted them as if everything were perfectly normal, and the two young men had not just been caught rolling around on the floor with their shirts off.

At least it had only progressed that far, Klavier thought, more amused than embarrassed, and gave him a little wave as he sat up too. "I thought you were going to be at the office for awhile yet."

"We were planning on it, but as Trucy said, we've got good news," Phoenix informed them, with a nod to his daughter, who was just barely peeking through her fingers. "A case popped up today that seems clear enough at a glance, but I think it merits further investigation."

"...You couldn't just _phone_ about these kinds of things, could you?" Apollo grumbled, putting his shirt back on.

"It's right up your alley, Apollo," Phoenix told him. "If you're feeling up to it."

Apollo nodded slowly. "I'm fine. A little unprepared for getting back to work _today_, but..."

"Tomorrow's all right," Phoenix assured him. "And that's not the only good news I've got. At least, I'm pretty sure you'll think this is good news too... I've been keeping in touch with Lamiroir, and she was planning to be in the area in a couple of weeks, to check in with Machi, and she'd like to visit with us."

"Seriously?" Trucy exclaimed, uncovering her eyes in surprise. "You didn't tell me about that!"

"I figured I'd wait until we were all together," Phoenix said with a little smile. "She said she was especially pleased to hear that you and Apollo liked that lullaby on the album she'd been working on, and now she's newly inspired to put the finishing touches on it. She said," he added, looking to Klavier, "that she would love to have some guitar and maybe some more vocals in the mix, if you're willing."

"Wow... that's incredible! Would you do it, Mr. Gavin?"

Klavier glanced over at Apollo, who was still looking a bit embarrassed. "It would force me to take a little break from working on my concept album..."

Apollo shook his head. "That's okay - I'd like to hear you do a duet with her. And I suspect it would be less... loud."

"In that case, I would be honored." Trucy had no problem looking at the two of them now that Apollo had his shirt back on, Klavier observed. In fact, she was looking right at him, and he thought she might be trying to wash out the mental image of her brother flushed and sweating and shirtless with the image of _him_ flushed and sweating in nothing but a pair of boot-cut jeans. It was, he had been told, a pleasant image.

"She'll be glad to hear that. Oh, and another thing - I hope I'm not stepping on any toes here," Phoenix added, "but now that we're living somewhere a lot bigger and nicer than the old office, it occurred to me that she might like to stay with us while she's in town. It seems like this place has more than enough room."

"Not that I'd say no anyway, but it's your decision," Klavier pointed out. "After all, I was ready to put the Gavin manor up for sale until it occurred to me your office apartment was a little small for three people, all of whom who I owe a great debt to. It's yours now."

"Well, yeah," Trucy admitted, "but you're still in your old room here. And even if we're living here too... I mean, it belongs to your family. Or at least it used to."

It had, Klavier thought, looking around at the familiar walls, and the occasionally less familiar furnishings - Trucy had immediately declared the place gloomy, and already had put up new gauzy curtains, which were drawn back to let the sun in. Not to mention the pile of Trucy's strangely-shaped props that still hadn't found a permanent home within the manor, and the pile of documents Apollo had been reviewing, and the stacks of DVDs - and the assorted trinkets and souvenirs Edgeworth had bought Phoenix and Trucy during his days overseas, arranged on mismatched shelves, and the large vintage figure from some samurai show on the piano, brought by an old friend of Phoenix's as a housewarming present. It was kind of a mess now (except for the bathrooms - Phoenix was either making excuses for checking the medicine cabinets on a regular basis, or he had an unhealthy fixation on keeping the toilets spotless), but despite Klavier's having grown up in a much tidier and more cohesive version of this same home, he thought he liked it better this way.

"I think it still does," Phoenix told Trucy, with a little smile for Klavier. "Wouldn't you say?"

"Ja," Klavier agreed, ignoring Apollo's slightly mystified look as he put an arm around his shoulders. "I'd say so."


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _This scene was not originally included in the story, and then when my girlfriend read it, she said she had just one complaint about the epilogue: "Miles should have been there too!" My reasoning for his absence was basically that this was supposed to be a Klavier/Apollo fic, not a Phoenix/Edgeworth fic, and I didn't want to distract from that. ...But, well, I had been mulling over a scene with the two of them for the ending, and I couldn't figure out a way to merge it into the above epilogue gracefully, so I gave up on getting it into the meme version. Thus, an extra optional scene for the Phoenix/Edgeworth shippers (like myself). ;)_

"So? What do you think?"

Edgeworth smirked slightly as they left the furthest guest room, starting for the stairs at the far end of the hall, having just finished the grand tour. "It's certainly roomier than your office."

"That's the best you can do?" Phoenix teased. "'Roomy'? It's a _mansion_, Miles."

"Yes, well..."

"And as far as 'roomy' goes," Phoenix pointed out, "it's got enough rooms to comfortably house one more."

They paused at the top of the stairs, Edgeworth turning to Phoenix with a serious look. "...I always thought I would be the one making such a suggestion to _you_."

"Funny how things work out, isn't it?" Not that Phoenix was any more amused by the idea than Edgeworth looked.

"Your good fortune has always been astounding."

Phoenix shook his head, growing more serious abruptly. "Good fortune? After the last several years, you think this is good fortune? I'd say it's karma. Minus the von," he added.

"Point taken." Edgeworth glanced back down the hallway, at the heavy wooden doors. "...Is that one _his_ room?"

There was one door in the hallway that remained closed. It had remained closed ever since Phoenix had moved in; since before that, in fact.

"I suppose it's just another guest room now..."

Phoenix shook his head. "Not unless Klavier's fixed it up. But me? I haven't looked. I haven't wanted to," he finished, quieter.

"You hardly need another guest room anyhow," Edgeworth observed with a thoughtful nod.

"Well, if you're moving in too..."

Edgeworth gave him an incredulous look. "Wright - are you suggesting that if I were to move in with you, we would have separate bedrooms?"

"...Okay, that point goes to you. Guess we're tied."

Edgeworth returned the smile Phoenix offered, but his eyes wandered again to the closed door. To Phoenix's surprise, he started back down the hall, towards it. "Uh, Miles?"

"If the manor is yours now," Edgeworth told him, "then perhaps you should free it from any lingering ghosts."

"You do remember that I know spirit mediums, right?" Phoenix reminded him, following reluctantly at a distance. Of course he knew what Edgeworth was really talking about, but... "I'm kind of used to ghosts."

Edgeworth made a scoffing sound, and opened the door, looking inside. "Some ghosts are better confronted." Phoenix was tempted to remind Edgeworth that he was one of the most haunted people he'd ever met... but instead, he just steeled himself for what he expected to be a familiar sight. All things considered, that room might haunt Miles nearly as much as it haunted him.

Familiar it was - Klavier hadn't touched his brother's room since his conviction, except possibly to clean it. The same books lined one wall (at least Phoenix assumed they were the same books - he'd never read them), the same blankets lay upon the perfectly made bed. Phoenix wondered if anything had been removed at all. He could just imagine Kristoph, hair shining in the morning sun through the window, with a smile just as sunny...

The look on Edgeworth's face as he took it all in was a look of dark disgust, but he said nothing, and Phoenix didn't know what _he_ should say either.

Finally, Edgeworth spoke. Briefly. "So this was where..."

"...Yeah." Running entirely on instinct, Phoenix sat down on the bed, and then kind of wished he hadn't. "Of all the bad choices I've made in my life..."

Without a trace of awkwardness - no memories for him - Edgeworth sat down on the bed beside him. "Aren't you the one always telling me that the past is in the past?"

"Yes," Phoenix admitted, "but there's never been anything I regretted as much as all that."

Edgeworth's hand found his on the covers, and closed over it, holding it tight as they sat in silence, letting Phoenix sort out his thoughts and feelings. Everything had become a lot more complicated since Kristoph forced his way into his life... but it looked like it was resolved now, he had to remember. And it seemed like somehow he'd managed to come out on the good end, looking at all he had now. He had Trucy, and Apollo, and now Klavier - even if he really wasn't sure precisely what Klavier and Apollo were to him yet. And after all they'd had to put up with, amazingly, he had Miles Edgeworth again too. He knew _exactly_ what Miles was to him.

When he looked up again, Miles had an odd, guarded look on his face. Wary, almost. "...What?"

Miles looked away. "I was just thinking... about all that's happened here in this room."

Phoenix considered the look on his face for a moment, the strange aversion. ...Oh. He had to consider it for a moment too, but he decided he agreed. "You know," he remarked, "there are some ghosts I'm not really fond of, and could do without."

Miles looked back to him and nodded. "...Exorcism?"

"Please."

The smirk that appeared on Miles's lips was outright vindictive. Okay, so this was just a little messed up, Phoenix admitted as Miles leaned him back down on the mattress - and seeing the view of the ceiling again made him a little uncomfortable. Rolling over, getting Miles beneath him, however, seemed to solve that problem. And it was _Miles_ \- there was no mistaking that.

A few minutes later, Phoenix checked, and found that Klavier hadn't cleaned out the compartments in the bed's headboard. Thank goodness. ...There was definitely something twisted and maybe a bit wrong about this, but it made him grin like a fool, and the look on Miles's face was nothing short of _victorious_.

That changed abruptly, however, when they heard a strangled shriek from the doorway. "Auuuugh, first Polly and Mr. Gavin, now Uncle Edgey and _Daddy_?" Trucy groaned, her hands over her eyes as she fled. "Why does this keep happening to me? Can't anybody around here keep it in their pants? Or at least close doors?"

Phoenix stared after her, lost for words, then looked back down to Miles, who had acquired a look of horror.

...He couldn't help it. Phoenix just started laughing. Life had been kind to him lately - if perhaps not so kind to Trucy.


End file.
